Last Waltz
by Roux Barcelone
Summary: When a woman of 26 with way too much younger siblings is formally introduced to one of her fathers business partners she first is intrigued. When she finds out who he is she tries to run. But the Count has never let his prey gotten away.
1. Prologue

So here it is. The first story that I'm uploading on and it's a premiere of some kind. As I wrote in my bio I'm not new to writing but new to putting my stories online. See my account if you want to know more:)

Great many thanks go to Remember. She knows why. I can only repeat over and over again how much I adore her and her writing. If you've not read her story "Ink on a Page" yet, DO.IT.NOW. Then you may come back and read this chapter.

A warning: This story is flowing over with music. It can be found in almost every chapter and I most often than not will tell you in the authors note at the end of a chapter where you can find some of the songs (mostly youtube) You don't have to listen to them as I know that every person likes other music. But I would like you to keep in mind that the pieces are kind of a soundtrack for this story. I've written it while listening to them, they inspired me and for this I'm grateful.

Roux Barcelone

Disclaimer: in my bio.

* * *

**Last Waltz**

**Prologue**

* * *

**"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."**

_Søren Kierkegaard_

* * *

Kind Reader-

You are now holding a book in your hands that I've written in the progress of the last year. I have had the honour to get to know most of the people mentioned in it and so have been most delighted when one of the protagonists gave me permission to write their story.

Not many of those who are described in this tale are still living but even if they are not with us anymore they will always be remembered by those who loved them.

I hope you can find as much pleasure by reading this book as I've had writing it.

S.G.d.B

(- next page-)

_This book is dedicated to my beloved oldest sister who has always been there for me and my siblings._

_She was our light and our anchor, a__ role model who shaped our characters and encouraged us to use our abilities as best as we could. And although all of us went out into the world going our respectable ways we all would return to her at some point or another._

_She is missed by those who knew and loved her._

_Cassandra we will never forget you._

* * *

….Chapter I "A night at the opera" is waiting for you…


	2. Chapter 1: A night at the opera

**Chapter I**

**_A night at the opera_**

* * *

**"Going to the opera, like getting drunk, is a sin that carries its own punishment with it."**

_Hannah Moore_

* * *

"_**Ich weiß es selber nicht,…"**_

Grey eyes were scanning the audience….

"…_**warum man gleich von Liebe spricht,…"**_

…taking in the fascination of the people in front of them…

"…_**wenn man in meiner Nähe ist,…"**_

….flirting subtly with the men in the first row…

„…_**in meine Augen schaut und meine Hände küsst…"**_

….enchanting everyone in the room male and female alike.

High over the crowd in an opera box with fantastic view over the hall sat two men. Both were entranced with the performance but for slightly different reasons.

The one on the right looked even in white tie like the business man he was. Richard Graham, fifty-seven years old, his brown hair greying at the temples, did not care much for opera. In fact he wasn't even very musical. The reason why at the moment he could be found at the Parisian opera house was a simple one. His wife was the one performing on stage. And while he could not tell the difference between a mezzo and a tenor he always liked to watch her when she was singing. They had fallen in love with each other when she had only been sixteen years old meeting the first time when he had designed her father's country house. Three years after that they had married, shortly before their son arrived. Now, thirty years later he still couldn't take his eyes off her.

"…_**in meinen Adern drin, da rinnt das Blut der Tänzerin…"**_

Entirely different was the gentleman next to him. He did not take notice of his business partner as he had closed his eyes. His hearing heightened he listened to the high notes his long-time acquaintance was producing. No one could sing Léhar as she could and as he let the melody take over his senses he marvelled how such a petite woman could produce such great music.

He was an intriguing man of pale skin and long raven hair held together by a gold clip at the back of his head. This, as well as the small gold whoops adorning his earlobes gave him a touch of exotic and although he was not even standing at the moment his person demanded respect.

One could not say if it was the proud way he held his head or the poised stance with which he was sitting in his chair but he practically oozed elegance and dignity.

Count Vladislaus Dragulia, named after his rather infamous ancestor or so he told, was the personification of aristocracy.

…_**.meine Augen sie locken und glüh'n…**_

The nearing end of the song made him open his eyes. They were of a strange ice-blue colour that seemed to cut through the air. Nothing could escape them.

…_**.meine Lippen sie küssen sooooo heeeeeeiiiiiiß!**_

The last clear notes reached into every corner of the hall. After that: silence. The small woman on the stage looked at her audience as if to say: "Well. What do you think? Haven't I done this nicely?"

And then thunderous applause shook the room as the people stood, screaming "Bravo!" and "Da capo!".

The two men in the opera box seemed unaffected by the spectacular below them. They just looked at each other silently, abandoning their seats and moving out of the box into the still deserted corridors to the staircase. Down and down they went their destination the catacombs below the opera. Still not speaking they arrived at the door leading to the cellars. Bustling and voices could be heard and when they stepped through the frame they found themselves in between lots of people. Backstage always was a mess after a performance and so they moved quickly through the crowd finally standing in front of another door, a sign reading "Cordelia Graham."

"I think she will be with us in some minutes. Let's make ourselves comfortable."

One last curtsy. Then the petite figure of the soprano vanished behind the curtain where she was greeted with enthusiastic applause.

"A wonderful performance!"

"I had tears in my eyes."

"Good God I wish I had your voice."

On and on they went praising her on a job well done crowding her while she was trying to catch her breath. Finally she could shake herself loose from them wandering down the halls to her dressing room. It would be the last time she would use it and this thought filled her with some sorrow. Lightly tracing the sign with her name on it she sighed. No going back now. And so she entered the room.

Upon her entrance both men stood. Silently she took them in. Her sweet, slightly sturdy significant other whose figure betrayed most observers in thinking that his mind was sturdy as well, a fact that often worked to his advantage in business. And then the Count next to him, standing at least one head taller if not more.

His tails practically screaming "custom made", expensive Italian leather shoes on his feet his presence seemed to fill every corner of the room. And as always he looked as if he could buy the world just with one snap of his fingers. Which probably was possible if he so desired. It had to be a sin to possess such charisma and be so devilishly attractive at the same time, Cordelia pondered. It was a good thing that she loved her husband.

"Darling. It was wonderful!" Richard had been moving towards her, kissing her cheek gently.

"As if you have noticed one word I have been singing!" She could not help but tease him knowing that he only attended so he could watch her.

"But dear how can you say that. I always take notice of your words." he tried to defend himself.

"Really? Then pray tell what have I been singing?"

"Something in German?"

Oh it was hopeless. With a laugh on her face she turned to her other visitor who had patiently stayed behind while her husband had greeted her. Now he stepped closer, bowing over her offered hand brushing soft, dry lips lightly against it.

„Sărut mâna Cordelia (1). Please let me compliment you on a magnificent performance. The world of opera is going to loose one of his greatest stars now that you retire." He sent her a dazzling smile, his Romanian accent just adding to his charms. Yes a good thing that she loved Richard, indeed.

"Thank you Count. You know how much I value your opinion. But please have a seat, both of you. We still have some time before I am expected at the aftershow party." She motioned to the seating group the men had occupied before her entrance and after they had returned to it she choose a seat next to her husband.

"So how has your business been going this morning? Everything went well I hope?" The simple question brought a crease between Richards's eyes.

"As a matter of fact it hasn't. My secretary forgot to pack the blueprints for the house. So I have to get back here next week so that we can finish the first planning."

"Oh my. Is this true?" she looked to the Count who just nodded his confirmation. Although he did not show it she knew that he most certainly was angered about the delay.

She had met him after one of her performances. Cordelia had been an opera singer for almost all of her life. First she had an engagement at the Metropolitan later at the Parisian Opera. But as she reached her mid-thirties she did not want to do whole operas anymore. There were so many beautiful songs and she craved to sing them all. So she decided to perform for people who liked to hear opera songs but not wished to go to all of the pieces. It became an instant success and now after ten years, five CD's and more concerts than she could count later she had decided to retire. One should stop when one has the most fun. And she really looked forward to seeing her family more.

Five years ago after a show in Bangkok she had been presented to the Count by a colleague. He was an avid admirer of beautiful music and seemed to be quite taken with the woman in front of him. They had talked the whole night and after the party had ended they had parted with the promise to stay in contact.

She met him again after another one of her performances and when he told her that he wanted to sell one of his houses she had introduced him to her husband.

Richard Graham, director of a successful firm that designed, constructed, bought and sold houses and properties, was only too glad to get such a customer. Until now he had done three big business deals with the Count who was very satisfied with the service "Graham & Woods" provided. Because of this he had decided to let them plan and build a country estate for him in France. Everything had gone well and today they had wanted to go over the blueprints when Richard had to discover that his secretary forgot to pack them. It really was annoying.

The two men thought back to this morning once more when Cornelia's voice drew them back to the present:

"Well I have an idea. On Saturday we will have a huge party at our estate on Long Island. Why don't you accompany us back to the US on Wednesday evening and join us for an extended weekend. You and Richard could go over the blueprints and do some more planning and at the same time you could enjoy a few days at the country and one of our, if I might say so, rather famous parties. Don't you agree with me honey, wouldn't it be wonderful?" She turned to her husband.

"This is a brilliant idea. And if I remember correctly Count I did invite you before to have a look at our gardens. This invitation still stands and it would be an honour to have you with us for the next weekend. That is, if you can spare the time, by no means we want to intrude on you." he finished respectfully.

They did not get an answer at first. The man occupying the couch next to them seemed to think about their offer rather deeply. After five minutes he spoke piercing them with those blue eyes of him:

"Well I had some appointments later this week but I can rearrange them. Your invitation is too good to not accept it. And yes Richard I have wanted to see your gardens for quite some time now. So why not?"

To say that Cordelia was pleased would be an understatement.

"How marvellous. I will tell our estate manager", here she changed a sly look with her husband "first thing in the morning. So do you want to take the plane on Wednesday or are you going to join us later?"

He smiled at her open display of happiness.  
"I'd rather meet with you at your estate on Thursday. But why don't we postpone those arrangements. We still have three days. "

With those words the matter was closed and they talked about this night's performance till it was time for Cordelia to change for the aftershow party. The Count left first because he wanted to meet with some other people first before joining them once more at the soiree.

The moment his steps couldn't be heard anymore Richard turned to his wife.

"Spill."

She grinned at him.

"I really don't know what you are talking about." Without even a glance she went to her wardrobe looking for the outfit she was going to wear tonight.

"Deli." Richard leaned back making himself comfortable while his wife was getting dressed. "Please. You do not offer invitations just like this although I must say he is a decent fellow and I have invited him myself to have a look at the gardens. But for an extended weekend and when a party is thrown nonetheless? And then your look when you mentioned our 'estate manager'? So what are you up to?"

Cornelia's grin widened.

"Well don't you think he is a rather charming man? One can't know what will happen after an evening of dancing." She could hear him laughing. So he had understood her. Never underestimate the connection between a couple married for such a long time.

"You want to set them up? You do know of his reputation don't you?"

His wife just waved his concerns aside.

"Every man will change when in love."

Richard Graham couldn't help it. He just had to laugh once more over the antics of his beloved opera singer.

"She is going to kill you when she finds out." He didn't say if. The object of their conversation was bound to find out eventually.

But Cordelia just smirked at him once more.

"We'll see darling, we'll see."

--O--

On Tuesday evening Count Vladislaus Dragulia better known as Dracula sat at the desk in his hotel suite. It was high time that he got his own estate in France. He hated hotels. They could never provide the service he was used to through his servants.

At least he did not need to be cautious when he wanted to feed. In a big city like Paris a death per month did not look suspicious. And he was careful enough not to leave hints that would point to the presence of a vampire. This would be difficult at the countryside.

Which brought him back to the matter at hand and the talk with Cordelia and Richard on Sunday. An invitation to Long Island. How delightful. He wondered what had the woman possessed to make such an offer. They did not know each other _that_ well despite their first name basis and him being one of her husband's clients.

"Mikhail!"

The instant he called a middle-aged man with short cropped black hair appeared beside him.

"Master?" His valet bowed low.

"I'm going to take a journey. Pack for an extended weekend."

"Certainly master."

The servant had already arrived at the door leading to the bedroom when the Count's voice stopped him.

"Ah yes and I'm going to attend a party. Pack something suitable for this as well."  
"Yes master."

Left alone once more he returned to his pondering.

After Van Helsing had destroyed him or, better yet, his body he had expected to find himself in hell. Imagine his surprise when he had arrived at a desert of some sorts no demons or even Lucifer in sight. Not having something other to do he had wandered the sandy dunes, up and down and up and down nothing in sight but sand. He couldn't even fly to see if there was something other than sand. All he could do was to walk.

After what seemed years to him he had been bored out of his mind. Sitting down on top of a dune he had finally lost his temper.

"Well? Is this all? Where is the hellfire? The tortures? Is this is all you can do after I have died a second time now?" he shouted to no one in particular.

"If you just have me to wander this sand pit you could have let me stay on earth. At least I've had something to do then."

After that last statement he had been knocked out cold awakening later on the chilly stone floor at Castle Dracula. Because of the state the remains of Frankenstein's machine had been in he could make out that he had been wandering this desert for at least twenty years. The century had changed as had the manners of the people.

First he had some problems regarding some of the more modern inventions but he managed. The greater problem was that all of the vampires he had sired before had been destroyed when Van Helsing had bitten him.

So he had to start anew. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. What a waste of time. But then the two World Wars certainly worked to his advantage. Men and women were desperate when they looked into the eyes of death and many took him up on his offer regarding immortality.

Until now he had not only created his normal amount of servants for his household again but also a society of, well, undead. Cordelia wanted to show off with her party? Hah. She should come to one of theirs. He really would like to see her speechless because of the grandeur expelled. The only problem was that she most definitely would not stay alive till the end of the evening. There was always at least one of his kind who became hungry.

So offering an invitation was out of the question also because of the fact that most people did not know about them. Mortals. Never seeing what was right in front of them the Roman Holy Order being an exception.

So far there had been twelve attempts to kill him once more. They had tried everything but this time even werewolf venom did not seem to help which had been a most welcome surprise for him. He still remembered the shocked face of the last assassin they had sent when the young man realized that the venom did not kill him. Oh how he had played with the boy relishing the taste of his angst. He had toyed with him for about six hours till he finally devoured him. One of the best feeds he had ever had.

His latest rebirth without doubt worked well for him. The resistance against the venom was one thing. Then there was the matter regarding the sun. He had been able to move in broad daylight before but the sun had always pained him almost unbearably. Now he just felt a dull pain behind his eyelids. If he stayed in the shadows wearing sunglasses he could sit outside on a bright summer's day for hours.

Hell, he did not even need his coffin anymore at least not every day. It was enough if he confined himself into the icy depths twice or thrice a month.

Whoever had resurrected him he owed them. He now truly was the King of Vampires. Nothing could destroy him at least not that he knew of it. And when he did not know the Order did not know either. Oh they were trying of course, their members working furiously on a solution. Well, in any case it was a method to generate new jobs.

He enjoyed dabbling in various businesses surrounding himself with finery and antiques and doing whatever he desired having not even taken a bride this time. He had enough women at his disposal but not one met his standards regarding an eternal companion. But there was no need for hurry he had every time he wanted. And in this "life" he would make sure to get a bride with more common sense than what would fit into a teaspoon. One couldn't say he was not learning from mistakes.

The ring of the telephone interrupted his thoughts. He could hear his Valet picking up the speaker, talking quietly.

"Master it's the reception area. There is a call for you from the USA, a Cassandra Graham."

Cassandra Graham? A relative of Cornelia's or someone else? Well he would hear soon enough.

Motioning to Mikhail that he could tell the lobby to put the call through he stood up. Another thing he hated in hotels. The telephones had wires.

With a grimace regarding his homeless "French" state he took the speaker from his valet.

"Yes?"

"Count Dragulia I presume?" A woman's voice, soft and melodious met his ear. The evening got better by the minute.

"The one and only."

"My name is Cassandra Graham I'm the daughter of Cordelia and Richard Graham. Please excuse my late call but my parents just informed me that you would be joining us for an extended weekend." So it was a relative. And a close one at that.

"This is correct Miss Graham. Has a problem ocurred?"

"Of course not Sir. I just wanted to ask if you have any wishes regarding your stay with us?"

This took him by surprise.

"Wishes?"

"Yes. Concerning the food or the room maybe?"

How unexpected.

"No Miss Graham I'm afraid I can't think of a thing. A room facing north would be nice but is by no means a must."

"This won't be a problem Count. A room facing north it is. If you have any other requests don't hesitate to call me. I've written down the number on the papers with the directions to the estate which I have faxed to the hotel."

"How thoughtful of you." Could she make out the slight irony? If she had she did not show it.

"Regarding the matter of the party I'd also like to inform you that black tie is sufficient. Gloves are optional but I would not recommend them as we're going to have a buffet."

"Thank you Miss Graham. Is there anything else you would like to notify me about?"

"No Sir. As you have told my parents already that you would drive yourself and don't need to be picked up by our chauffeur I don't see any other subject that could be discussed."

They ended the call after some polite goodbyes.

The Count went back to the seat he had occupied before deep in thought because of the last ten minutes.

What a respectful young woman. She had even called him "Sir". It was a nice change many females he had met throughout the last years were too absorbed in themselves to even notice how rude they were at some times. They could take a page out of Miss Graham's book. From her manner of speaking and the reason of her call one would assume that she ran a hotel and an expensive one at that.

Well the next weekend was going to be interesting.

* * *

What do you think? I would love to read your opinions….

The song at the beginning is Lehars "Meine Lippen sie küssen so heiß" (My lips kiss so hot). If you don't know it maybe you'd like to check out the version on youtube. I have kindly provided the link ;)

http/ www (dot) youtube (dot) com (/) watch?vqpwBQ2Fbow0

Don't mind Rieu at the beginning of the video and her trying to dance. It gets interesting at 00:56. I just love her voice. This is the voice I think Cordelia could possess.

(1) Sărut mâna means I kiss your hand. An act of courtesy if you will…

Thank you for reading ;)

Roux Barcelone


	3. Chapter 2: Lovely ladies and tequila

**Chapter II**

_**Lovely ladies and tequila**_

* * *

**"By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he's wrong."**

_Charles Wadsworth_

* * *

His head was pounding. The intensity of the light that he could make out despite his closed lids told him that the sun shone much too bright.

With a desperate moan he tried to roll to his other side failing miserably as the pounding increased.

He released another groan and this time was met with malicious laughter.

Wait. Laughter? In his bedroom? He turned to the source of the noise opening his eyes to take in his surroundings. Three grinning faces looked down at him.

Good God. Not again.

"Hello Damien." The voice of his long-time friend Jon was too cheerful to mean anything good.

"How are you feeling?"

"You know bloody well how I am feeling. If I remember correctly it was your suggestion to go clubbing. Argh." He had tried to sit up only to find out that this wasn't a good idea at the moment.

His answer was greeted with new mirth.

It was another one of his friends, Matthew Cameron, twenty-eight years old who took pity on him.

"Come now Dam you have to get up. After all you are expected at your home."

"Not till this evening Mat and now let me sleep the three of you."

He tried to turn another time when he was grabbed by four strong hands moving him out of the bed onto the floor holding him up when he swayed dangerously. Trying to get his headache under control he looked at the three men surrounding him.

On his left stood Alexis Velcos of Grecian descent and with almost thirty the oldest of them. The blonde Matthew a Polo player with a passion for fast cars and not very reputable women grinned at him from his right.

And in front of him in a chair sat Jonathan Woods the man he normally considered a brother. It seemed he had to think about this again. But first he had to get sober.

"You look like shit." Trust Alexis to pick up on it.

"Really? And what pray tell has brought the three of you to my humble abode to disturb my sleep?"

Oh yes he was angry. He had a hangover and all he wanted to do was to get back into that bed. Or at least into a horizontal position.

"If you are still able to talk like that it can't be so bad Dam. Do you know the date?" Only Mat could ask such a question.

"As a matter of fact it is Wednesday. Seems I've still have some brain cells left."

"Let me tell you that you are mistaken",came the dry response from Jon. "It is Thursday. You have slept through whole yesterday and through this night, too."

He became sober in an instant.

"You are kidding me." They better had to.

"Nope. Your father called Jon this morning asking where you are because one of your sisters phoned him that you haven't been home yesterday.", Alec took delight in telling him.

"And now we are here to pick you up and get you to Long Island ASAP. Your facility manager let us in." Matthew chimed in.

No it couldn't be true. But the mischievous grins adorning the faces of his three friends told him otherwise. They had done it again. And now he was in for it. It took him a moment to let this thought settle but when it did he became frantic.

"I have to call her. I have to explain I…..where is my mobile." Another round of laughte. They seemed to do this quite often this morning. Couldn't they take his throbbing head into consideration?

"But don't you know anymore? You have drowned it in your sixth tequila."

That explained its absence. Drowned it in his tequila and couldn't remember. What a nice way to start a day.

"Any other bad news while you are at it." It couldn't get worse.

"Just that it is almost noon and you should have been at home eighteen hours ago. So you'd better get moving."

Damien Graham dragged a hand through his brown hair and made his way to the bathroom in slow and unsteady steps.

"She's going to roast me over open fire."

His three former friends exchanged grins once more.

"Oh yes she is. And we are going to enjoy every minute of it."

At this he snorted an action he instantly regretted. Oh his poor head.

"I hate to disappoint you but she isn't going to scold me in front of an audience. You should know her better than to expect this."

When he had finally arrived at the bathroom, Jonathan answered him.

"There's a first time for everything. Why do you think we are doing this every year anew?"

"You do this just to see me getting told off by my sister? Guys please take note that I hate you." with those words he slammed the door shut their laughter following behind him.

With friends like this who needed enemies?

* * *

"**A sister is both your mirror – and your opposite."**

_Elizabeth Fishel_

* * *

There was an estate on Long Island. A huge house surrounded by beautiful gardens stood upon a hill ivy adorning the outer brick walls giving it a slightly cottage flair. There were stables and a tennis court as well as two swimming pools one in the house the other next to the grand western patio. From this terrace an impressive staircase led down the hill to the grounds below. It was copied from the Spanish Steps in Rome only interrupted halfway by another terrace from which two paths branched of. The trail on the right led to the rose beds the other one back to the front of the house meeting the gravelled driveway.

Normally one could found peace and quiet at Graham manor despite its many inhabitants. But at the moment it seemed more as if a hurricane had met the domain. Everywhere people could be seen grooming and tidying up the place in what appeared to be an organized chaos.

Behind the thick walls of the house on the second level, one room looked like a bomb site, the floor and every surface littered with cloths of various colours as well as scissors and fashion illustrations.

A girl stood on a stool at the centre. Her thick blonde hair fell straight past her shoulders till the middle of her back. Smokey grey eyes blinked impatiently a cute button nose scrunched up in annoyance but despite her obvious frustration she looked beautiful. Still in an adorable infant way but it was evident that the moment she reached adulthood men would fall to her feet just because of her looks. Her brother and her father did already. All she needed was one gaze from beneath her lashes and she had them wrapped around her finger. Yes Stephanie Graham knew how to get what she wanted. In a household with five sisters it was a matter of surviving.

One of said sisters was kneeling at her feet fitting the seam of the evening dress she would wear at the party.

Nineteen year old Amelia Graham, called Nefer because of her place of birth, had been declared the family seamstress. From an early age on had she liked expensive cloths and when she had not been practising on her violin she had been designing dresses for her dolls. Later she had designed them for her sisters and even if she did not make them all by herself she liked to give them the finishing touch.

She had inherited the petite but womanly figure of her mother and the coffee eyes of her father as well as his difficult to tame hair. Even now the light brown tresses escaped their messy bun. She did not possess the beauty of her baby sister, none of the siblings did, but she was nice to look at and definitely what men deemed: "Above the average."

And at the moment she was quite fed up. Stephanie had been moving. Again.

"For Goodness sake Stephanie, HOLD STILL! I won't tell you this another time."

"But you pricked me."

"I wouldn't prick you if you would quit shifting!"

"Pfff. You did it on purpose admit it!"

Oh how Nefer would have liked to throttle that little beast. If only she knew a place where to hide the corpse.

She was going to give a scathing answer when someone chimed in:

"Do you want me to hold her for you?"

Leaning onto the door frame a young woman of eighteen years watched her two sisters with obvious amusement. Her short mouse brown hair sticking up at the sides Raphaela looked like she had just jumped into a paint pot. The jeans and the t-shirt adorning her tall gangly figure were sprinkled with every colour possible. There were even some blue and green smudges on her face and Amelia could already sense the anger of their housekeeper. Oil colours were hard to get out of clothes.

"I would take you up on the offer Raphie but I'm afraid you would ruin the dress. There is red and yellow on your hand."

"Oh I don't know, I think some dots would brighten the cloth." She stepped towards them making attempts to grab Stephanie.

With a shriek her little sister jumped from the stool.

"Don't you dare. I'd rather have her prick me than you messing up my gown. Stay away I say."

But Raphaela just grinned,

"Seems you have to outrun me Steph." and began to chase her through the room much to the dismay of their older sibling.

"Girls no, the cloths. Will you stop it. This is enough and….nooo not the tulle." Her cries of distress did not matter to the other two. Satin flew high as Stephanie ran Rapahela hot on her heels stopping only when a new voice met their ears.

"Is this a public meeting?"

Nefer sighed in irritation turning to the door where she could make out another two of her sisters.

"Are we complete now or are there other any visitors that want to disturb my atelier?"

"Cassie is in town and Mrs Jen is occupied. So I think there won't be more people coming." Theresa, younger to her by three years, was the smallest of the siblings and to her chagrin possessed the more than voluptuous curves of her fraternal grandmother as well as a love for everything of the food variety. She could eat all day. Around her shoulders lay a python dozing while his mistress moved near the group at the centre.

The statement of her sister had attracted the notice of Raph.

"Cass is in town?"

Her question was answered by the last young woman who had entered the room shortly after ''Tess''. Standing almost as high as Raphaela she walked with the light step of a ballerina her white Romantic tutu almost swallowing her slim figure. Hair the colour of chocolate was held back in a tight bun and her small feet rested in pointe shoes.

Grace Graham was the epitome of her name.

"She left an hour ago to get a bouquet for the northern guest room."

This short proclamation brought the five sisters back to the matter that had engaged their minds since Tuesday. The mysterious visitor their mother had announced and that would arrive today. A Romanian Count nonetheless and he would attend the party on Saturday too. How very exciting. For two days they had been chattering about his looks and his character, fantasies running high not giving their oldest sister a minute of peace

with their questions.

--O--

Said mysterious guest was at the moment enjoying himself immensely. His right foot applied some more pressure onto the gas pedal and the black Ferrari gained speed. The road was free of hindrances and so he cheerfully tested the abilities of the rented car. Trees and meadows were flying past and while he listened to the roaring of the engine he relaxed for the first time this day.

The flight with the plane had been strenuous. Normally he enjoyed using the modern techniques and the services provided and not having to do all the work. But this time there were more turbulences than one could count, tension running high and everyone had been glad when they finally arrived at the airport. However for him the ordeal wasn't over.

When he arrived at the car rental and told the young man behind the counter who he was and that his valet had ordered a Ferrari via phone he was told:

'Ferrari? Don't have one.'

Trying hard to keep his temper in check he had leaned on the polished surface, the dangerous glint in his eyes keeping the annoying individual in front of him rooted to the very spot it was standing on:

'Young man. My employee has ordered a Ferrari in advance for this very day. This is the confirmation paper. I presume you are able to read and so I suggest you administer said accomplishment. As you can see everything is as it should be and because of this very fact I recommend that you hand over the keys this instant and then escort me personally to my car. If you value your job that is. Otherwise I would be forced to inform Mr. Mason of your inability to treat his customers with the respect they deserve."

The mentioning of the holder of the rental company did the trick.

A grin spread on his face while he thought back to the grovelling the other man had displayed after his little speech. Sometimes it was almost too easy.

And now he was on his way to the estate or better yet should arrive at the place in about ten minutes. The directions Miss Cassandra had provided, had until now proved to be very helpful.

Next street to the right and then about 100 yards…

His eyes met an open iron-wrought gate, gravel spewing on a carefully kept lawn as he steered the Ferrari on the driveway. Old oaks passed by and then the house came in sight. Not as grand as one of his properties but still impressive he had to admit.

A limousine stood at the front steps people surrounding it unloading bags and suitcases. He could make out the Grahams in the crowd and brought his car to a stop just some centimetres away from the foot of someone that seemed to resemble some kind of butler.

"Count!" One couldn't mistake the delight in Cordelia's voice as she went to meet him.

"How nice to have you here. You've found it without problems I hope?" He took her hand only vaguely bowing and sent her a dazzling smile.

"But of course my dear, your daughter gave me an astute description how to get here." He turned to Richard who had approached during the short exchange. The man's eyes were shining as he took in the sleek black car the Count had driven, almost forgetting to greet his guest while he admired the gleaming exterior.

Within seconds the two of them discussed engines and horse powers strolling around the Ferrari leaving Cordelia to chuckle about their behaviour.

"Oh really, the both of you are impossible. There we are, one day later than we wanted because you had to business in town, my dear and now you are discussing cars. We have not even arrived properly yet and it's men talk all again. How about we greet the girls first?" The last question was directed to her husband. Richard and the Count exchanged a sly look that promised each other that they would come back to the topic as soon as possible. Then they took Cordelia between them, her leading the way around the house in directions of the gardens.

"Mrs Jen just told me that they are at the southern patio. Mrs Jenkins", she explained to Dracula "is our housekeeper and in charge of most of the people employed at the estate. Her husband is our butler, the man whose foot you almost departed with your right front wheel." She grinned mischievously.

He had to chuckle at her expression. It made her look like a child that just had played a prank on an elder.

"Are all of the girls at home?" Richard cut in.

"Yes."

The statements grabbed the Counts attention.

"Excuse me Cordelia but…all of the girls?" He looked at her questioningly, frowning when her grin deepened.

"Our other children. I believe you have met our oldest Damien while doing business and Cassandra is our second, younger to him by one year. And then there are Amelia, she's nineteen, Raphaela, eighteen, Grace who's seventeen, Theresa who became sixteen just three weeks ago and our youngest, Stephanie. She is twelve. Our son hasn't arrived yet but the girls are home."

He had counted during her speech his eyes widening while she continued telling him about her offspring.

"Six daughters? Gracious!" He shook his head in bewilderment.

"Richard you have my heartfelt sympathy!"

It was gratefully accepted by his host.

"Finally, someone who understands. This house is flowing over with estrogen and one doesn't stand a chance when dealing with seven women. I'm always glad about some male company."

That declaration earned him a laugh from his wife.

"You know very well that all the males in the world would be to no avail against our daughters."

"While there's life there's hope, Deli.", was the dry answer and with that they arrived at the so called southern patio.

It was a terrace with terracotta tiles on the ground surrounded by lush bushes. Five girls were lounging on wooden chairs being in the midst of a conversation that seemed to have their brother and the oldest sister as the topic.

"…never seen so angry for quite some time!" a tall young woman said, ruffling her short hair with her hand.

"Of course she is angry. It's the fourth time in a row by now. One would think he has learned from experience." This came from a small but for her age very developed girl to his left. Her brown tresses curled around her face while her fingers stroked something on her lap. At second look he could make out that it was a snake.

"Maybe he'll learn this time." A soft voice answered. It belonged to the one in the ballet attire.

The woman with the short hair snorted,

"Oh please Gracie stop believing in the good will you? As far as it comes to men they'll never learn and our dearest brother isn't an exception. I just hope he still gets here today otherwise I think she's going to have his guts for garters."

"It would do him no good. I've heard her saying to Mrs Jen that she is going to keelhaul him in the duck pond." A girl with the face of a porcelain doll gave her contribution to the discussion. She seemed to be the youngest sitting next to a woman who until now had not said anything to the matter. But the last sentence brought a grim smile to her lips.

"Sarcasm. That isn't a good sign, he really seems to be in for it now. What wouldn't I give to be a fly on the wall when she has a go on him." This brought on a round of laughter and "Me too"s. Using the moment of interruption Richard stepped out of the shadows the three of them had been standing in and greeted the giggling group with a cheerful, "Good afternoon ladies."

"Father!" a chorus of five voices screamed, then they were all over his business partner and the moment the females discovered their mother they were rushing to greet her, too. Volume rose high as the parents were embraced and words of welcome exclaimed, the noise only dying down when they got aware of his presence.

"Count if I may introduce; our daughters Amelia, Raphaela, Grace, Theresa and Stephanie.", As Cordelia mentioned their names each of them dropped a small curtsy. The spouses smirked at each other; it seemed their daughters had been instructed.

"Girls this is our guest for the weekend. Count Vladislaus Dragulia." He bowed, when a screech could be heard from the little 'porcelain doll',

"Blimey! But not the real one, are you?"

"STEPHANIE!" The embarrassed faces of her sisters turned to her while the corners of her mother's mouth twisted and Richard merely rolled his eyes. Trust his youngest to ruin it.

But the twelve-year-old just stared at the tall man smirking down at her; still waiting for him to answer the question.

"I believe you are referring to Count Dracula?" He raised an eyebrow and she nodded.

"Well then tell me Miss Stephanie, if you'd be the king of the vampires would you tell a mere mortal girl who you are just because she asked you?"

Grey eyes observed him while she thought of a response.

"Well if you put it like that, no I wouldn't. But it doesn't hurt to ask."

"No it doesn't."

They still gazed at each other when Richard turned to his daughters.

"We have overheard your conversation. Don't worry about Damien. Jonathan has phoned me half an hour ago. It seems your brother had some problems waking up but is now on his way home escorted by his friends."

"Hah. Problems waking up? Wait till Cassie hears that!" , Raphaela sneered.

"As a matter of fact where is she?" , Cordelia cut in. "It isn't like her to not greet a guest."

"She just came back from town some minutes ago and is probably upstairs." Amelia told her.

Her mother looked at the two men,

"Well then, why don't we get inside, too? The luggage should have been brought to the rooms by now and we could freshen up a bit. How does that sound?"

"This is an excellent idea Cordelia."

With a last nod to the girls they turned to the big glass doors leading from the patio into a hallway. White granite tiles and walls painted in a light blue gave the corridor a cool appearance.

It ended at the foyer with the double entrance door at their right and a grand staircase leading to the upper levels of the house on the left. White was the dominant colour here too, combined with green, blue and some red and a vase with flowers stood on a table. It was an elegant but still inviting vestibule and the Count wondered if it had been Richard who had chosen the colours and the interior.

His thoughts were interrupted by the resonance of steps approaching the upper landing of the staircase from a hallway on the first floor.

The three of them looked in the direction of the noise now another sound mixing with it.

"No Mrs Jen just tell them I'll be with them in about fifteen minutes. As long as they leave the rose beds unharmed they can do with their cables whatever they want."

It was the soft melodious voice from the phone call. The owner wasn't in sight yet but the steps drew nearer and finally Cassandra Graham was standing on the upper landing gazing down at them with a smile on her face.

* * *

I'm sorry it took me so long. Real life interfered and I have to admit I wasn't very satisfied with this chapter. But here it is and I hope you like it. The next one will come faster, I promise.

To those who have reviewed (you pushed my ego...:D ):

Remember: Thank you, thank you, thank you…. You know I can't thank you enough for reading over this chapter. And talking to you always makes my day/night. I look forward to our next conversation.

xCherryCreamx: Thank you. The scene was as painful to write, too. Ouch, indeed :)

cmfrisk0901: Thanks for the review. Now the story is going on and I hope you like the chapter.

Haunting Whispers: Thank you. Yes she is and her stories are so…wonderful I really can' t find enough words to describe how much I adore them.

StarlessSkies87: Thank you fort hat long review. My worst fear with this story was that the English isn't good enough. I never seemed to grasp every content of grammar in school and I'm always a bit scared of messing it up. Your opinion about Cassandra makes _my _lips curve because this is the view I want(ed) the readers to get of her. Seems I'm doing something right after all.  
Oh and….who said they were going to be together? Just kidding…but it's going to be a loooooong way till they'll finally have each other. And I agree with you about the quality/quantity thing. Here is your update. Enjoy!

As always I would love to read how you've liked it. Until now the story has been hit 230 times. Isn't there another good soul who may tell me what I can do better and which parts you enjoyed? But I know how hard it is to write a review. The hits show that the story is read and this is what matters.

Last one for now: Remember and I have written a list. Or better we have collaborated on how to annoy a certain vampire. She kindly permitted me to upload it on my account. If you'd like to read it just look at my profile.

Till next time. Thank you for reading!

-Roux


	4. Chapter 3: Thursday's charms

**Chapter III**

_**Thursday's charms**_

* * *

"**As a general thing, when a woman wears the pants in a family, she has a good right to them."**

_Josh Billings_

* * *

"What a nice surprise. I had not expected you till late afternoon."

It was never clear whom the blonde woman, that now began to take the steps down to them, meant but her smile seemed to include all three of the halls inhabitants.

She could have been an older version of Stephanie featuring the same colours inherited from their mother. However, as she drew nearer, one could make out differences that rendered her less beautiful than her younger sister, but still interesting to look at.

The long narrow skirt in midnight blue and the matching blouse complimented her skin and the braid around the crown of her head, although old fashioned, enhanced high cheekbones and a straight aristocratic nose. But the tailor made clothes could not hide that they were fitted for someone who would at least weigh five pounds more and the hairstyle did nothing good for her high forehead and eyes that seemed to stand together a tad too narrow.

They watched her descending with her back straight, the chin in perfect angle with the shoulders and Dracula wondered if she had practiced walking like that with a book on her head. She held herself like a queen. A queen that was in desperate need of a number of meals and some Good Night's Sleep. There were circles under her eyes that even the carefully applied make-up could not conceal, clearly visible when she finally reached them.

The parents stepped forward, greeting their oldest daughter with hugs receiving light kisses on the cheeks in exchange. And then they turned and the woman, of whom he had only known the voice until now, was standing right in front of him. With her small heels she was about the height of his shoulder.

"Count if I may introduce my daughter Cassandra. Cassie this is Count Vladislaus Dragulia."

Thin but sensual lips curved into a friendly smile when she sank into a curtsy offering a small hand in the progress which he gently took.

"Count. How nice to put a face to the voice at last. Please let me welcome you at Graham Manor. It's a pleasure to have you here Sir."

Softly he bowed over her fingers stopping at the mandatory distance before raising his eyes to her face.

"The pleasure is all mine Miss Graham, I assure you." He straightened. "What I have seen of your home yet has told me that I'm going to enjoy this stay very much."

Her smile widened a bit. So that woman liked to be complimented about her domicile.

"I hope that you'll do. And I would like to repeat that whenever you have a wish don't hesitate to tell me. You are our guest and we want you to be comfortable."

The words seemed heartfelt. He looked into her grey pupils searching for any kind of insincerity but they gave nothing away. Every inch of her spoke of control so it was only natural that her eyes did too. There was no mistake; this was the Mistress of the house despite Cordelia being the literal holder of that title. Dracula did not now what told him that Cassandra Graham with her mere twenty-six years was running this estate. Maybe it was the way she moved or how she talked with a confidence that belied her age. But he knew that he had been right some days ago in the hotel room in Paris. The next days would definitely going to be interesting.

--O--

Forty-five minutes later he was being led down a hall again by the butler he had almost ran over when he arrived. The middle aged-man had shown him the quarters where he would stay after the introductions had been made.

It really was a room facing North with a small balcony, big windows and light but elegant furniture. His things had already been unpacked and he had been told to just ring the electrical bell next to the door and somebody would take him to the southern patio for a late lunch after he had freshened up.

He had taken a short shower in the adjacent bathroom, had changed his clothes and was now on his way to eat something. Not that he needed it of course. But he was curious what was being offered and he still liked the taste of the mortal food. As he had fed shortly before he had taken his plane there would be no need for blood for quite some time now and he could properly get pleasure from this short holiday. And that included the food.

They rounded a corner and stood at the staircase again their eyes drawn to the scene down in the hall.

Damien Graham stood surrounded by three men whom Dracula recognized to be the junior partners of Richard Graham's firm and four of his sisters. Another one, Stephanie, was clinging to her brother, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his shoulders with the face buried in the crook of his neck. She appeared to be sobbing, him whispering incoherent words to her, softly stroking her back.

"Ah it seems the lost son finally graces us with his presence."

Richard and Cordelia appeared from the corridor to his right, their oldest daughter behind them. The parents had changed while Cassandra still wore the dark blue ensemble only a big silver belt adorning her small waist.

"Come Count, let's meet the rest of the party and then we can eat. I think I'm going to be killing somebody if I don't get some food into my stomach."

With those words Richard led them down the stairs where Stephanie had just parted from her brother and wiped some tears away. Again hugs were exchanged and hands were shaken, Damien being a bit surprised to find him at his parent's home but bidding him welcome nonetheless. And then everyone's eyes were on Cassandra who was the only one that had not spoken to the young Mr Graham yet.

"Brother. Welcome home." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek all the while smiling. The faces of the three other young men fell and Damien shot his friends a triumphant look. That would show them.

"Cassie. How is my most favourite chatelaine?"

"Why I'm fine, thank you. And you? Let me guess…you are famished?" He nodded.

"Well then I have had prepared a lunch on the southern patio.", she turned to his friends "May I invite you to eat with us gentlemen?"

That was graciously accepted and everybody beside the younger sisters moved down another hallway ending at a terrace that was surrounded by man-high hedges and bushes which gave it a cosy and secluded appearance. A big table was set, on the surface bowls with various kinds of salad and big plates with ham, cheese, meat and different kinds of fruit.

Upon seeing the number of settings Cordelia turned to her daughter:

"You are not eating with us? Have you eaten with the girls?"

"No mother. There is still much to prepare for Saturday. I'll eat at the dinner table, don't worry." The older woman seemed to be quite upset at the words but as she didn't say something Cassandra turned to the men.

"Gentlemen if you'd excuse me I have delayed my work long enough. Enjoy your meal." And with that she hurried back into the house.

The other seven did exactly what she had told them, they enjoyed their meal and did so with gusto. When later the table had been cleared by two servants and the talk changed to business Cordelia excused herself, too and the men found themselves engrossed in the topic of the Count's new estate in France.

It was around dinner time that the three junior partners left despite being invited to the evening meal and Damien still wanted to get some things, he did not specify, done. And so Richard and his customer were the only ones occupying the wooden chairs. Voices could be heard from the inside of the house, indistinguishable but softly creating a background for the perfect late afternoon scenery.

The Count smiled when his business partner sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"You are content." A statement not a question and the other man nodded.

"Who wouldn't? I haven't seen my family and this house for weeks now with all my business in Europe. And then I come home, everything is running smoothly, there are no great problems, there's food on the table and I don't have to worry about numbers for some time. Of course I'm content."

"Yes, I've wondered how organized everything is and with the party coming up on Saturday, too. From your explanations of the gatherings size I would have expected a chaos." Now let's see if that statement got him to the topic he wanted.

Richard chuckled.

"Oh it is a chaos. But it's an organized one. Cassie is doing a marvellous job, as is expected. She really has a talent for managing such festivities and this is the reason the chaos is kept in limits. My daughter never looses track of whom is doing what, be it with the party organizations or the normal running of the estate."

So they really had got to the point. Now he had to make the best out of it.

"Well, I have to admit I was a bit irritated when Cordelia spoke of your estate manager in Paris. But if your daughter does as you say that description would be more than fitting."

"Oh it is, believe me." The smaller man warmed up to the topic more and more. He loved talking about his family and so the normally tough principal of a successful firm was being outsmarted.

"She has a better grip on the employees here than I have on mine at work. I don't know how she does it. She got this from my wife's mother that came from English nobility. It was quite the scandal when the woman married my father in law, she was disinherited for that. My daughter takes after her although she is not half as uptight as her grandmother was. My god could that be a shrew." He shook his head remembering scenes long gone.

"From your words I take it that Cordelia's mother is not living anymore?" Blue eyes were fixed on the host, the owner of them enjoying the feeling of getting information about this extraordinary family.

"She died thirteen years ago some time before Stephanie's birth. Most of the girls only have a vague recollection of her but Cassandra and Damien have been living under her care every now and then when Cordelia had engagements and I was on business trips. So her influence especially on Cassie was great. And as much as I disliked the woman I have to admit she did a good job with my two oldest. I sometimes wish she could still be around just to teach some of the younger girls how to behave like a proper lady. "

The tingling of a bell interrupted the talk between the two men and got Richard to his feet.

"Ah, dinner is going to be served in about thirty minutes. We better get changed. Casual, nothing too high and mighty will suffice."

--O--

The evening meal was a quiet affair despite all of the family members being present at one table. Even the girls had ceased their bickering, displaying impeccable manners. Each of them had changed into something more elegant without being too dressy and the behaviour seemed to come with the clothes.

After the last dish had been cleared away Richard grinned at his daughters.

"Now, any further plans for the evening? Any…meetings?"

Cassandra answered for them.

"No, all of us will be home tonight." Her fathers grin widened and he turned to their guest.

"Then we'll be provided with excellent entertainment this evening." At the questioning look of the Count he explained.

"You see, the musical talent has been forwarded to the female line of this family. While Damien and I can not read a note it is an entirely different thing with my daughters and so we may be able to hear a little….concert?" He looked sheepishly at the girls who by now were smirking at each other.

"Dad, why don't you just ask if we play something for you?" Nefer was laughing at him.

"That would be the easy way me dear. But now that you say it…"

"Well then, why don't we have the coffee in the music room?" This was Cordelia who took the chance to rise from the table.

The so called music room held a variety of instruments. In the centre stood a grand piano, a drum set and percussions could be made out in the right corner, two guitars and a mandolin lay on a side table together with a violin case. A big harp had found its place in front of a floor length window. And those were only the instrument that one could see at first look.

Grace opened a door in the wall to reveal a big space holding more utensils and drew out a cello case. Raphaela followed swiftly with a trumpet, Theresa and Amelia wandered to the chest of drawers and Stephanie opened the cover over the piano keys while the rest of the diners took seats on an arrangement of some beautiful Luis quinze chairs and canapés.

"We won't need long." Tess called and the girls gathered around the grand, tuning themselves in. Dracula watched them with the eyes of the connoisseur and could see in an instant that those five weren't just the pride of an overzealous parent as that had been his first thought when Richard had announced the entertainment at the dinner table. No, from the way they handled the instruments it was clear they knew what they were doing even the twelve year old on the piano stool.

Some of his surprise seemed to have shown on his face because Damien, lounging on a chair to his right, leaned in and softly whispered:

"Our parents didn't tell you that we have our own little big band?"

"Indeed Mr Graham they didn't. Your sisters have been taught for quite some years now I presume?"

"Yes. Most of them have started with five, Steph even with four years. I know it's early but they showed that they have the ability and why let that go to waste? So my parents decided to have them tutored. And with a conductor in the family… what can I say?" The younger man smiled.

"Ah yes I remember, your maternal grandfather. But your father said the musical gifts descended into the female line of the family however I don't see Miss Cassandra with an instrument?" The Count looked at the woman next to her father talking to both parents in the soft whispering voice him and and his conversational partner used, too, as not to disturb the artists during their preparations.

Upon the question the other mans face seemed to fall. Damien averted his eyes.

"My sister does not play. She has other talents. But I think the concert is starting."

He was right with the statement as well as the characterization. Shortly after he had uttered the last word, the first note was heard and what then followed could only be described as a concert.

Fingers were flying with practiced ease over keys, strings and valves, bows were dragged and bodies were moving with the melodies. Each one of the girls engrossed in their own playing they still complimented each other in an astonishing way, at one time giving the violin the lead another time the piano taking over, yet all the while acting as a combo whose members knew each other too well to make mistakes. One could see clearly that they had fun working together as amused looks were exchanged, a kind of silent communication between them. They played over an hour without a break creating transitions between pieces that left the observers in the dark as to which song came next and gave two of them, Raphaela and Theresa, time to quickly switch between their chosen instruments trumpet, percussion, guitar and flute.

The repertoire ranged from Mozarts "alla turca" over Beethoven, Brahms and even Monti's "Czardas" wasn't left out.

Vivaldi's "Spring allegro" was modernized, three to four pieces of Abba and the Beatles were mixed in between with a quick side-trip to some musical songs and then they arrived back at the start with the "Little Night music".

When the last note rang through the room the audience bestowed them with cheerful applause. But the five girls in the centre of tdid only seem to care about their older sisters' opinion, each one of them looking at Cassandra for approval.

And approve she did, nodding with a slight smile on her lips, clapping with the rest of the spectators. The Count had been too engrossed in listening to watch her during the performance but now he could see that her face was glowing with a kind of maternal pride for her younger siblings that suit her very well. The gauntness of her cheeks was softened; no trace of tiredness left and for a minute she looked beautiful in a certain delicate way he could not put his finger on. As fleeting as the moment had come it went away when Richard cast a sly look on his spouse and oldest daughter.

"Now let's listen to you two!"

Both of them started protesting.

"But darling we haven't performed together for months now and haven't warmed up. It'll sound terrible."

"Oh come on Deli, the both of you will never sound terrible if your life depends on it. One song won't hurt will it? After all we are in private." He looked pleadingly at his wife.

"With only a connoisseur in opera watching us. ", she turned to the Count who gave her a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry Cordelia. Whatever happens I won't breathe a word to the newspapers." She still made a somewhat sour face when her daughter laid a hand on the mothers arm.

"Why don't we sing one song and tomorrow we join the others properly at the evening performance. It's already late now and Stephanie should have been in bed some time ago."

The older woman nodded and they made their way over to the piano where Cassie bent down to whisper something to her youngest sibling.

Next to each other the discrepancies between them were even more obvious. Where Stephanie's hair featured the colour of the sun on a September's afternoon the tresses of her older sister had the appearance of old gold. And when the both of them looked up to ask their mother a question the only facial similarities seemed to be the cheekbones and the shape of the eyes. Even the shades of grey in the pupils were different the ones of the youngest bordering on silver while Cassandra's displayed the colour of dust gathering in corners waiting to be swept away.

The three females at the piano managed to come to an agreement and the audience made themselves comfortable again, the men still in their chairs, the other girls where they stood while mother and daughter took their places in front of the instrument.

The first notes of Offenbach's "Barcarolle" were played and Cordelia began; singing the lower part of the piece.

"_Belle nuit  
Oh nuit d'amour  
Souris à nos ivresses…_

The Count settled back in his seat. No matter what circumstances, that woman would always sound amazing even without warm-up.

…_Nuit plus douce que le jour  
Oh belle nuit d'amour…_

His lids demanded to be closed to tune out his surroundings and just listen to this beautiful music.

Cassandra joined her mother in the piece.

…_Le temps fuit et sans retour…_

And Dracula's eyes flew open.

Even years later he would asked himself what he had been expecting when the oldest Miss Graham complied with her fathers' wish to sing for them. After all, that woman had a conductor as grandfather, her mother was an opera singer and her sisters were an orchestra on their own. But the only answer he could give himself would be that he had definitely not been expecting this.

Cassandra Graham was a trained soprano.

And he would bet his immortal ass that with a proper warm-up that woman was able to sing herself through a complex Mozart aria.

His spine left the back of the chair when he leaned forward as if to be closer to the source of the music not blinking once during the whole performance almost afraid he would miss something if he did.

Despite not having sung together for months it worked quite well. Their voices wrapped around each other ensnaring everybody who listened and the whole beauty of it made up for the slight mistakes and the lost practice.

… _Nuit d'amour  
Belle nuit  
Oh belle nuit d'amour._

They finished and were met with enthusiastic clapping. Mother and daughter smiled at each other and parted, Cassandra helping her sisters to put instruments away while Cordelia came back to the seating group where the men now stood. The musical part of the evening had come to an end.

"That was wonderful Deli." Richard wrapped an arm around his wife's waist who just smiled unsure.

"Let's hear what the expert says. I hope it wasn't too terrible on your ears Count."

Dracula looked at her with a serious expression.

"Cordelia I should be angry with you!" She stared at him in surprise her smile vanishing.

"But why?"

"Two things." He ticked his fingers off. "First, never, and I mean never, say that your voice will sound terrible without a warm-up. You'll always sing spectacular, no matter what."

The smile came back. "And the other thing?"

"Second I should be angry with you for hiding a vocal jewel like your daughter here in Long Island. A voice like that has to be heard on stage performing opera and not just singing in front of family and guests." He shook his head at his acquaintance who actually had the gall to laugh.

"My dear Count you tell her that. God knows I have used all powers of persuasion to get her to take an engagement. Fact is my daughter doesn't want to perform on stage. She played the role of "Rosina" in "Figaro" three years ago at a festival here in town but other than that she only sings in front of family and sometimes guests at one of our parties. But even the latter occasions are rare ones."

"What a waste!..." he wanted to say but was interrupted by the voice of the youngest Graham sister who stood in front of Cassandra a desperate look on her face.

"But it's only 10 minutes past eleven. Cassie, PLEASE!"

"I'm afraid this isn't up to discussion Stephanie." She raised an eyebrow when the other girl wanted to start again. Seeing the motion her sister declared defeat. The matter was closed.

Dropping a small curtsy in the Counts direction and bidding everyone a "Good night." she vanished through the door.

"I think we'll go upstairs as well." Nefer turned to her other three younger siblings, silently telling them to follow her lead. There was much to be discussed and if they wanted to get some sleep tonight they would have to talk about it now, while Cassandra was still occupied and Stephanie in bed so they wouldn't be disturbed.

Cassie hid a smirk as the girls took their leave. She knew that those four would now huddle together in Theresa's sitting room, as it was the cosiest and Tess always had some kind of midnight snack hidden in the drawers. There they were going to pick through the days events until one of them, often Grace, was close to falling asleep. When the sound of their feet faded away she joined the remaining inhabitants of the room.

"Well I think I'll be doing my rounds and then retire as well. Shall I have some Cognac brought to the library?" The last question was directed at the men as she assumed they were going to stay up late.

But the Count had other plans.

"I for one would like to follow the example of your sisters and call it a day. The flight was strenuous at best and I think I feel a bit of jetlag." Jetlag. As if a vampire suffered from that. He smirked inwardly as the Grahams expressed their sympathy. Sometimes it was just too easy.

He bowed to the ladies, complimenting them another time on a wonderful performance, nodded to Richard and his son and went to the door refusing the offer to ring for a servant to lead him to the guest quarters.

In the frame he turned.

"Ah Miss Graham, there's a question I wanted to ask the whole evening. It concerns the flower bouquet on the chest of drawers in my room."

"Is there something wrong with it Sir? If it disturbs you I can remove it in an instant."

He smiled at her concerned tone.

"Everything is perfectly all right, I assure you. I just wanted to know who chose the flowers." Now she looked confused.

"I did." Ah. So it was as he had thought.

"Then please let me thank you yet again for your kind reception. Wisteria and Anthuriums. Welcome and hospitality. A good choice for a guest rooms bouquet. That was all I wanted to know. Good night." One little bend of his head then the door closed behind him leaving an astonished group of four.

Upstairs in his room he waited for about twenty minutes before making his way through the house, this time using his abilities and the shadows to hide him from prying eyes. Jetlag indeed. Dracula wanted to get to know the estate and its inhabitants from another side, the side they did not show to strangers.

The voices of the four other sisters drew him to a room that seemed to be importet straight from the Orient the girls lounging on big cushions on the floor. It was Nefer who was talking at the moment.

"…and mother told me he greeted Cassie with a hand kiss."

"Really? As in a real hand kiss?" Tess made big eyes.

"Well, you know, the old fashioned form. Bowing over the hand without kissing it." Amelia gave details.

Grace nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, that would be proper when first introduced. The man stops some inches over the back of the hand. And when you know the lady already you may kiss the back of her hand softly but only if you, as I said, have been formally introduced before that meeting."

Raphaela looked at her dumbfounded.

"How do you know all of this?" Her little sister shrugged, a movement that did not seem to fit.

"Cassie told me. She also explained that a real proper hand kiss is not done in the open but always in between four walls but that this is a rule that is often forgotten nowadays."

Nefer sighed.

"Really, I sometimes believe Cassandra isn't our sister but someone from the Victorian age who has found a time machine."

The four of them laughed at the notion that did not seem to be foreign to them.

"Apropos Victorian, Nef I think you'll need to take a look at my dress especially at the corset part……"

Here the topic changed and the watcher in the shadows moved on.

Cordelia and Richard could still be found downstairs on a couch being in the midst of a conversation themselves if one could describe the wife nagging her husband as such.

"…and I swear Richard Graham if you don't do it I will. She hasn't slept all night staying up with the little one and just because of a stupid prank between men who behave like five year old boys. We have enough problems with the topic as it is, they don't need to enhance them. Not on the cost of the girls. So talk to them and get them to see reason or I will!"

The other spouse rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Yes Deli I will give them a piece of my mind. And I think Cassie is doing the same with Damien at the moment. So please let the matter rest at least for tonight. I'm exhausted despite the fact that it was a nice day. Seems our guest is not the only one suffering from jetlag. Let's get to bed, hm?" Together they left the salon leaving the unseen eavesdropper.

The Count pondered over his next move. Richards statement had peeked his interest. So proper "antique" Miss Graham did some straight talking to her brother? That was a phenomenon he would hate to miss and thus he found himself right in the midst of the gardens within the next minute. Now where to go? Carefully he let his senses flow over his immediate surroundings. Not a sign of human heartbeats. They weren't here.

He finally found the siblings sitting on a bench at the shore of an artificial pond. They were not talking but looking in silence over the glittering surface of the water when Damien stood up suddenly.

"Well then, get on with it!"

"Get on with what if I may ask?" Cassandra looked up at her brother's distressed face, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"With your lashing? I mean, you didn't ask me to accompany you on your rounds just for fun. I know you are angry." He dragged a hand through his hair nervously.

"I'm not angry Damien."

The young man stopped the dragging a befuddled look on his face.

"You aren't?"

"No I'm not." She paused and he wanted to sigh in relief. That changed when she resumed speaking.

"I'm furious. And I'm disappointed." Some steel had crept into her voice, a fact that wasn't lost to her brother.

"Cassie I can explain!" His sister stood up from the bench and faced him.

"Oh I'm sure you can. So please don't leave me in suspense. What pray tell has it been this time Damien? A herd of rampaging gnus? Fairies in the shopping windows? A T-Rex on Broadway?"

Damien suppressed a groan. Sarcasm. Not a good sign. He could be glad if he made it out alive and so he tried humour.

"Well to tell the truth, it has been tequila." He registered too late that this was the wrong thing to say. The steel in Cassandra's voice got more obvious.

"Tequila? Well that's certainly a new one. Until now we only had vodka and…what has it been last year? Rum? How nice of your friends to change their alcoholic repertoire some time or other. At least the taste won't get dull!"

She shook her head, looking away from him trying to calm herself.

Normally Damien would have promised to never do it again and with some more scolding the matter would have been closed. But the notion of his friends had raised his ire, too.

"Don't take this out on the guys. It was me who drank the stuff. They are good blokes who just wanted to get me to loosen up after a long day of work." He himself didn't believe what he was saying but that was something he would not tell her.

"By the way, why are you complaining that much? I mean, nothing happened. Yes I was drunk, yes I should have been here yesterday but as far as I could see you have everything under control with the party. Or was there an occurrence were I would have been the only one who could have helped you? Come now, Cassie everybody knows that you don't need me to manage party preparations."

"You think this is about me?" Her voice had gone soft. She sounded irritated.

"You really think I complain because of myself?" When she looked at him again, he knew he had gone too far. Despite her calm demeanour and quiet tone she was beyond livid. Her shoulders were shaking.

"Then let me tell you Damien Graham that this is about our little baby sister. A twelve year old child that has waited all of yesterday's evening for you to come home, who, when you did not show up, was on the verge of panicking because she thought you had been kidnapped or worse."

His eyes widened. Stephanie. He had not thought about that. He had wondered about her strange behaviour when he had arrived this afternoon but had dismissed it as teenager moods. Not in the slightest had he thought…

And Cassandra was not finished yet.

"Stephanie has been crying all night. Every time she tried to sleep she had nightmares. Do you really think that this is the correct price for some drunken moments? The misery of your little sister? And if you had not wanted to come why didn't you phone Damien?"

"I wanted to come. We went out Tuesday evening and I was so drunk that I slept through whole Wednesday!"

His sister just looked at him mistrust in her eyes. He began to plead with her.

"Please Cassie it's the truth. I would have come if I had been able to even tell who I was. Fact is that the guys woke me this morning in my flat because father had phoned Jon. They told me that I drowned my mobile in one of the tequilas so I could not phone!"

"Oh for the love of God, Damien!"

Her anger seemed to have seeped away leaving a tired disappointed woman.

"Drowned your mobile in your…." She shook her head again when he gazed at her with begging eyes.

"I was not thinking Cassie."

"Yes, I realized that." Came the dry response.

"But when will you learn to think? You are getting married next month. Is it that hard to display a little responsibility according to your age?"

"I'm sorry. I really am."

"Tell this Stephanie."

He nodded.

"I will. Tomorrow! Do you forgive me? Please Cassie. It won't happen again!"

His sister's lips curved into a sad smile.

"You say that every year. But yes, I'll forgive you."

Damien beamed and opened his arms.

"Friends?"

Cassandra seemed to hesitate for a moment then she stepped into his hug.

"Friends!"

They parted after some seconds the smile still on his face.

"Let's get back inside. It's late."

He turned to get back to the path leading to the house when he suddenly found himself in the little pond.

"Damien! Is everything all right?" The concerned voice of his sister brought him back to reality. Spluttering he wiped the water from his face.

"How the hell…"

Cassandra reached out to him and helped him up carefully to not land in the pond herself.

"My, it seems you slipped on the wet grass. You haven't broken anything I hope."

"No, I'm just drenched."

"We better get you inside then before you catch a cold." And with that she led him back to the domicile.

Damien would never know that it had been a strategically placed foot between his own feet that had made him loose his balance and go for an involuntary midnight swim.

And he would never know that it had been Cassandra who, during their hug, had used the opportunity to teach her brother a little lesson. Nobody had watched her manoeuvre, nobody but the blue eyes hidden in the shadows their owner remembering a conversation overheard on a patio. Keelhauling in the duck pond, indeed.

It was only two hours later when a shrill scream cut through the silence of the Graham household.

* * *

I present to you: the third chapter.

So Cassandra made an entrance. She may sound a bit MarySue like in this chapter but this will change believe me. I just can't list all of her charms and all of her faults in one chapter. ;)

The song Cordelia and Cassie are singing is "Barcarolle" from Offenbach's "Les contes d'Hoffmann"

You can find a beautiful rendition here:

(h t t p : / / ) (w w w (.) y o u t u b e (.) c o m ) / (watch?vis0Lb4cj3c)

This is the version with the voices I imagine Cordelia and Cassandra could possess. It isn't a very good quality but I still like it.

(h t t p : / / ) (w w w (.) y o u t u b e (.) c o m ) / (watch?vZ2y2DTNUM6o&featurerelated)

The links will work without the enclosing marks and the spaces of course.

About the guest room bouquet:

The Count refers to the old flower language (invented sometimes around the Victorian age) after which most of the different plants and their colours have a special meaning. It will play a further role later.

A big thank you to everyone who read the story and an even bigger thank you to those who reviewed:

Remember: There you are. More Cassie just as you wanted. ;)

DEMONCC: Here's the update. I hope you'll like it.

Cosmopolitan Countess: Thank you. The prologue was kind of a "spur of the moment" thing. And there's a meaning behind the title. It will get a bit clearer as the story progresses.

xCherry Creamx: Sometimes seems to have some problems with alerts etc. You are right I wanted the beginning to be a bit confusing. And yes Cassandra is finally making an appearance. I hope you like her. Stephanie…what can I say…I just adore her. And we'll be seeing more of her in the future chapters. Much more. You had a hard time with the Ferrari? Hm, now I'm curious…what car would you imagine the Count in?

Hate it? Love it?

Let me know what you think!

Till next time

Roux


	5. Chapter 4: Friday's surprises

**Chapter I****V**

_**Friday's surprises**_

* * *

„**Is solace anywhere more comforting than that in the arms of a ****sister****?"**

_Alice Walker_

* * *

"No Maeve, I think around 3 p.m. What? On Saturday." One hand occupied with holding a phone to her ear, the other with getting the pins out of her hair Cassandra sat at her vanity table.

The clock had chimed 1.30 a.m. shortly before and the whole household lay asleep, the oldest of the Grahams sisters being the only one still awake.

After returning from her rounds she had made plans for Friday, wrote To-Do-Lists and looked over bills.

This party wasn't only expensive it was stressful; the schedule tight and despite the preparations the normal affairs of the estate nevertheless had to run properly. Sometimes she wished she had two heads, six hands and the days 48 hours. Or that she could at least be at four places at the same time.

"Mh? Oh yes they were delighted. It isn't everyday that we host European nobility under our roof."

Finally her hair got loose. Carefully she dragged a brush through the blonde strands chuckling about a question the person on the other end of the line had just asked.

"Do you really think I'll tell you? You'll have to see for yourself if he's handsome or not. And allow me to remind you that you are getting married next month."

Her brother's fiancée had been calling her from Great Britain just after she had finished changing into her nightclothes and as always when Maeve O'Brian and she talked they weren't done in just five minutes. The conversation was lasting for half an hour now and Cassandra gazed at herself in the mirror a smile playing around her lips as she listened to her soon to be sister in law.

There was no denying that she looked as tired as she felt. Furthermore her night would end at 5.30 pm so that she could be downstairs one and a half hour later right after some of the servants would have finished the cleaning of the ground floor.

The 26 year old woman always felt that to be an apt employer one had to be seen by the workers and so her days started early as she wanted to watch the people who cared for the estate. The running of such a large property was mostly a matter of control. Mistakes were only human but they occurred less frequent when the employees knew that they were supervised. Mrs Jenkins, although indestructible, could not be everywhere and thus it was Cassies task to keep ahead of the things that had to be done.

The brush was laid aside and she just wanted to clamp the phone between her shoulder and her cheek so she could begin braiding her hair when she heard it.

A scream cut through the air telling of agony and terror and Cassandra felt the colour draining from her face.

"Maeve I'll call you back. It's Stephanie!" The other woman never had a chance to respond.

Jumping from the chair and throwing the phone on the table was one movement. As fast as her slippers would allow she raced along the hallway, tying the belt of her dressing gown in the progress. More weeping could be heard from her sister's room and when she dashed through the open door she noticed Cordelia sitting on the mattress trying desperately to wake her youngest up. Richard stood next to her staring down at the wailing child, his face stricken.

"No, no NOOOO! Let me go please let me go, I didn't do anything. Please let me go!" Stephanie's begging was heartbreaking. Her legs hopelessly tangled in the sheets her arms flailing she frantically fought off her mother who tried to soothe the still sleeping girl.

"Stephanie!" Cassandra's voice cracked through the room like a whip startling her parents. They hadn't been aware of her presence.

"Stephanie! Wake up!" Settling herself on the bed opposite to her mother she looked at the distressed teenager whose wails had now turned into sobbing still pleading with an unknown force to leave her be. Outside on the corridor doors were opened. The noise had woken the other sisters up.

Cassandra's gaze swept to the older woman's fingers that were resting on the twelve year-olds shoulder.

"She does not like being touched it only deepens the nightmare." Her mother looked at her in astonishment but removed her hand. The child quietened a bit.

"Stephanie? Wake up darling. It's only a dream. Wake up!" Calmly she called to the girl only her furrowed brows showing how worried she really was. It would be of no use if she panicked now as it would only antagonize Steph further. She needed too long to wake up already.

Finally watery grey eyes opened to look at her.

"Cassie? Are you here?"

"Yes my precious I'm here. Everything is going to be alright."  
She smiled down at her youngest sister.

A hand reached out to her the sign she had waited for. Without further ado she grasped it and pulled Stephanie into an embrace the girl clutching at her with all her might. Cassandra could feel hot tears burning through her dressing gown dropping onto her skin like liquid fire.

"He was….here again and he….grabbed me and said…..that he would take me away…and nobody was there to help me….and….oh Cassie!"

Softly she began to rock the crying girl in her arms.  
"It was a dream darling just a bad dream. He can't hurt you. He is far far away from here. Shhhhh, everything will be alright. Shhhh."

From the hallway she could hear her other siblings talking to each other in hushed voices.  
Stephanie looked up at her. "Can I sleep in your room?"

When Damien arrived at the scene he found four of his sisters gathering around.  
"What is it?" Certainly the wrong thing to ask he noted when Amelia rounded on him.

"What is it? What is it?! Well I tell you what Steph had a nightmare! AGAIN! Hence Cassie won't get any sleep tonight. AGAIN! And just because you were not on time. AGAIN! I swear Damien I'll…."

"Go to bed and discuss this in the morning!" Cassandra had stepped out of the room a shivering Stephanie clinging to her side followed by their parents.  
"There's no need to wake the whole house Nefer. Go back to sleep all of you, tomorrow will be a long day. I don't think you will be disturbed again."

They watched her walking to her door and only when it closed behind her and their youngest sister the other family members went back to their respectable quarters.

In the darkness of the master's bedroom a woman's sigh could be heard.

"What is it Deli?"

"I'm such a terrible mother."

"But my dear why would you say that?"

"Richard! My oldest daughter knows her sisters better than I their own mother. I should have known how to soothe Stephie it should have been me she called to."

"Cordelia! Are you jealous?"

"No. But I'm sad that I don't know them as well as I should. Cassie should not have to carry that burden."

"Ach Deli!"

Softly she wrapped the blanket around the girl tucking her in. A kiss was breathed on the younger ones forehead then Cassandra straightened up to take off her dressing gown. Silvery eyes followed her as she moved to her vanity to get the discarded phone and a hair band.

"You should wear it open more often." The voice from the bed sounded raw and tired from crying. "Your hair I mean. It's like golden water."

She turned back to Stephanie her feet making light padding sounds on the carpet.

"Could you imagine how tangled it would be after only a day or even a night? I would have to cut it off to get out the knots." At her sister's disappointed look she smiled; sitting down on the mattress once more she gently caressed the girl's cheek.

"Try to sleep a bit darling. I'm here nothing can happen to you." Deftly fingers began to plait the long strands their owner watching the twelve year old as she curled on the side and closed her lids. When the braid was finished and the band wrapped around the end the sound of deep breaths told that the youngest had found some rest at last.

Her brows furrowed she watched her now sleeping sister. Stephanie's cheeks were still tear streaked and not for the first time Cassandra asked herself why she hadn't killed that horrible man when she had the chance.

--O--

The Count had not noticed the commotion of the night as he had explored the surroundings of the estate during those hours. But the moment he joined the Grahams at the breakfast table he could feel that something had happened.

Cordelia looked gloomy, Richard worried and Nefer shot angry glares at a squirming Damien. Grace was even more timid as usual not speaking one word while Raphaela stared at the eggs on her plate as if she expected them to jump into her face within the next seconds. With a disgusted sigh she pushed them away. The three other sisters were not to be seen.

"Good morning!"  
His greeting was echoed back at him with more enthusiasm than he had expected. He took his seat next to Cordelia who just handed him a bread basket when Cassandra stepped into the salon. Grey slacks and a sleeveless bordeaux turtleneck adorned her figure, a cream shawl lying around her shoulders. Again she wore a crown braid, not a hair out of place.

"Good morning Sir! I hope you slept well?"  
She smiled at the Count while sitting down on a chair across from him, a teacup and saucer she had been holding in her hand finding its place next to her plate.

"Good morning Miss Graham. Indeed I had a very pleasant night, thank you." His unholy blue eyes swept over her face taking in the dark circles that seemed even deeper than the day before, being an ill contrast to her pale skin.

"I'm pleased to hear that."  
Cassie tried to repress the blush she could feel rising on her cheeks. Every time he looked at her she felt naked as if he would know her innermost secrets. Sensing her unease the Count smirked inwardly, offering her the bread basket.

"Oh thank you."  
Her left hand reached out. The shawl slipped away from her arm revealing a long thin scar running from the mid of her forearm over her wrist stopping at her palm. The accuracy of its shape made disturbingly clear that it had been inflicted by a sharp object. A knife….or a razor blade. His gaze flicked back at her eyes, questioning her ruthlessly. But before she could say a word, the butler entered the room.

"Miss Cassandra there's a phone call for you." Her hand pulled back and she stood up.  
"Excuse me."

Just moments after she had left Theresa entered.  
"Morning everybody!" A cheerful grin on her face she sat down between Damien and Grace loading her plate with some scrambled eggs, bacon and a roll.

"Cassie and Steph awake yet?"

"Stephanie is still asleep and Cassandra has been up at her usual hour." Nefer had interrupted her glaring to answer the question.

"So again no rest for her?" Two sugar lumps made their way into Tess' tea.

"Well I think the delightful shadows under her eyes make it obvious. Gracious Queeny one more lump and your teeth are going to fall out." Raphie's voice sounded cranky. But her younger sister did not let herself be put out.

"Hey! It's not my fault that you are not a morning person. Neither is it your eggs!" She eyed the other girl's meal in amusement.  
"Let me tell you, sisters, seeing dried egg on a plate in the morning is a lot dirtier than anything I've had to deal with in politics!"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Alright you two cut it off. Theresa stop quoting Ann Richards and you Raph could at least try to smile."

Four eyebrows raised in unison.

"Since when are you doing Cassies job?"

"Since she is not here and the both of you are grating on my nerves."

"That's a reason I accept!" Tess dug in her breakfast with gusto.

"Morning everybody!" The last Graham girl entered the room making herself comfortable between Raphaela and the Count. Although her eyes were still a bit red and puffy she seemed to be more relaxed and awake than some of her older sisters.

"Good morning Stephanie. Did you sleep a bit?"

"Yes Mum. Better than in my own bed. I have to say….Oh. Hi Cassie."

She had come back from her phone call. Her face stony, grey eyes gazing at nothing she sat down not answering Stephanie's greeting. That was dubious.

"Cassie?"

Again no answer. The sisters looked at each other. That was frightening.

"Oi. Cass!"

Her head shot up. "Raphaela? Could you repeat the question please? Ah good morning Stephanie. I did not see you there." Cassie not taking care of her surroundings? That was the end of earth!

"Ok. Who has died?" Trust Nefer to cut straight to the point.

Cassandra swallowed. "Nobody. Yet. I'd like to inform you that grandmother will be joining us for lunch. Auntie just called to tell me."

That short speech brought an expression on the faces of the Grahams that could just be described as terror. A simulate groan could be heard from the girls while Cordelia whispered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Dear God have mercy!"

Her husband coughed slightly. "Well we are going to be much occupied today, won't we Damien? Count? After all we have to go over the contracts and the plans and other very important things!"

The angry stare of his wife silenced him effectively.

"Richard Graham don't you dare hiding behind your desk and blueprints!" "But you are not going to be here either!" He tried some damage control. It was of no use. "Yes but contrary to you my appointment has been standing for weeks now. So don't even think about being a coward!"

"Why does this woman always have to come early?" Amelia exclaimed.

"She only does this to antagonize us. You should have written Sunday in her invitation Cass. I bet she would have been punctual for the party tomorrow."

"Raphaela, please."

"We should make a sign: No food for old hags!"

"Nice idea Steph. We could put it up at the front gate."

"Or we could let George loose."

"No way in hell Nefer. My poor baby!""

"But you wouldn't have to feed him for months. I have seen on discovery channel how a python ate a whole antelope once."

"I don't think you can compare grandmother to an antelope!"

"Exactly Grace. And just for the record Nef, the snake on discovery channel was fully grown. My George is not even a year old. The poor dear would die trying to digest her."

"I have it! We poison her lunch!"

"Steph you get better by the minute!"

"Well it shouldn't be difficult to do that."

"You are right, it shouldn't. We just have to let Raphie cook!"

"Oh shut up Queeny."

"Still having difficulties in the kitchen, Pheli?"

"Difficulties? That's a nice way to put it!"

"Theresa I said shut up. As if you are a better cook Damien! And don't call me Pheli!"

"Well, Ela at least I know how to warm up some soup!"

"I'll have you know dearest brother that the ability to burn water is an art that is only mastered by the most intelligent people."

"Back to topic the both of you. We still have the problem of a two hundred pound nightmare showing up in about three and a half hours!"

"Why don't we ask grand-père for help?"

"Grace he is only arriving tomorrow. That's too late. Till then the servants have been ringing the funny farm for us."

"No he isn't Amelia. He will be here this afternoon. Around two thirty I believe."  
"He.Will.Be.WHAT??"

"Mayday. Mayday. Abandon ship. I repeat: abandon ship."

"I agree with Steph. We should cancel this party now. There won't be much left of the grounds tomorrow."

"Don't you think you are a bit pessimistic Raph?"

"A pessimist is only an optimist with experience Nefer!"

"Does anybody know where to find a not too expensive hit man?"

It was like watching a ping-pong game. Dracula didn't know what was more entertaining, the banter of the siblings, the glares Cordelia still sent to her husband or the oldest Graham sister who had closed her eyes for a minute pressing two fingers against her temple.

"Alright that may suffice. I call order!" Cassandra finally had enough.

"Before you are going to deepen your schemes ladies I have to enlighten you that there will be no signs, no poisoning, no cooking by Raphaela and George will stay in his tank! And you my dears will be polite and civil."

She held up a hand when the others wanted to protest.

"I'm not finished yet. I want each and every one of you five at the table by half past twelve in adequate clothing and not a minute late. We are going to give a new meaning to the words family solidarity. Is that clear?" Her eyebrows raised she looked at her sisters who after a moment nodded grudgingly.

That matter settled she turned to her father.

"If you gentlemen want to eat in the billiard room please tell Mrs. Jen. And now if you'll excuse me Mrs Jenkins is waiting for me." With those words and a nod to their guest she stood up and left the room.

Raphaela sighed. "This is going to be one hell of a day!"

--O--

"And the formal dining room next to the blue salon." Dracula leaned back in his chair, pleased with the morning's proceedings. They had gotten far in their planning and faster than they had imagined, Damien being a great help to them. The young man had brought some ideas into the discussion that were not only up to the expectations but also relatively easy to realize.

A satisfied expression on his face, Richard stood up.

"Why don't we make a break? There are only the gardens left for now, what brings me to the question if you'd like to take a short look at our grounds before we are required to be at the lunch table, Count. I'll give you the extended tour later but I think some fresh air would do us good."

"But of course. I'd be delighted." He got to his feet, too, followed by the young Mr. Graham who grinned at his father.

"From your words I take it you want to join the ladies for lunch?"

This was answered with a soft groan. "Your mother would have my head if I leave it to Cassie to entertain your grandmother."

"Then I'll inform Mrs. Jen of the arrangement!" The son took off to find the housekeeper.

"Well we should be on our way too. My mother is arriving in just a bit more than an hour." Richard gestured to the door when suddenly someone knocked on the same.

"Enter!"

"Mr Graham, Mr Woods for you on line three. He says it's urgent!" The servant sounded anxious and the architect sent an apologizing look to Dracula.

"I'm sorry Count. It seems we have to postpone the walk."

"Don't worry Richard. Maybe I could take a quick stroll on my own? Some fresh air would be really appreciated.

"Oh please do. Feel free to explore."

--O--

Eyes the colour of dust travelled over shiny black polish. Perfectly manicured fingers traced white ivory keys before they moved themselves into a C-Accord pushing down softly, driving the notes from the piano.

The left hand joined the right on the keyboard, trying to copy the movement. But as hard as she willed all of the digits to apply some pressure only three of them did so to their fullest extent. Middle and ring finger were not budging. It was hopeless. Just as she wanted to detach her hands from the keys a voice drew her from her trance.

"So you are playing." Like a dagger wrapped in black velvet it slid over her senses, dark and dangerous and undeniably masculine the Romaian accent adding something exotic to the mix. Hastily she turned to the door. She had thought herself alone.

"Milord. I did not see you there!" So polite. So poised. And yet…for a moment he thought he had seen a flicker of something in her eyes a combination of guilt and sorrow. No hint of it was left though only the woman standing in front of the piano perfectly composed as always.

Within seconds he noted the stack of paper on the surface of the grand joined by a small package the cream coloured shawl in a heap next to it. Her hands were still lying on the keys.

"I did not mean to startle you. I just went by when I heard the notes. The door was open." She watched him approaching, smoothly like a dancer with a peculiar elegance in each of his movements. His regal presence filled every corner of the room the black colour of his clothes enhancing it even more and she fought the urge to avoid his gaze. She would not let herself be intimidated in her own home. Before she could answer him he continued.

"Your brother told me yesterday that you don't play but now I can see otherwise."He was standing before her now, gazing down at her and finally she got aware of her fingers on the piano.

"Oh no, Damien spoke the truth." Hastily she withdrew her hands from the keys. He raised an eyebrow, blue pupils scrutinizing her. Did she just lie to him?

"Miss Graham. I know a C-Accord when I hear one!" Now try again woman. But she only smiled.

"Maybe it was a bit ill phrased. I learned how to play the piano, that's right, but I'm not able to perform anymore. My left hand doesn't want as I do."

"Ah really? It wouldn't have to do anything with this, would it?" He reached for her left arm, turning it, baring the scar to the daylight. His skin felt cool against hers, but the temperature wasn't the sole reason why she had to suppress a shiver. There was something challenging in his whole stance and the way he looked at her.

"You are very perceptive Sir." The fingers of his left hand came up to lightly follow the outline of the mark.

"A kitchen accident I'm afraid. The knife slipped and cut right through the nerves and muscles robbing me of the ability to move some of my fingers. I fear I am worse than Raphaela when it comes to cooking."

There was nothing that gave her away and without his powers he would not have been able to distinguish that she had lied. What was it that she did not tell him?

Carefully as not to make her aware of it he delved into her mind, curious to find out what she wanted to hide.

…_a child was screaming, a man grinning..."Let her go this instant__!"…. the flash of a knife, two people struggling suddenly losing their balance, tumbling down a long marble staircase in a flurry of limbs and there was pain…and then nothing_

Just as he wanted to search deeper her question drew him back to the music room.

"Any success with the blueprints?"

So she obviously wished to change the topic. Very well, he would get to the core of this later. Gently he let go of her arm. "As a matter of fact we were so successful that we declared a break. I was on my way to the gardens when I heard the piano."

A weight seemed to be lifted off her shoulders when he did not bring up the scar again. "Oh? Maybe you would like to accompany me then. My destination is the rose garden."

"I'd be delighted. Why don't you lead?"

Taking her notes, shawl and the little package Cassandra sent the grand one last look before she walked to the door, Dracula at her side.

--O--

"This is stupid!"

"Stephanie I swear to god if you make this anymore difficult I'm going to drag you into the water and shoot you with a rope!"

The loud voices of her sisters made her suspicious and got her to quicken her steps, her mysterious guest keeping up with her. The moment they reached the entrance hall all five of her younger siblings came in sight standing in front of the staircase being in the midst of what seemed to be a not very friendly argument.

Raphaela, Theresa and Grace had Nefer and Steph between them who were practically screaming at each other.

"I. WON'T. DO. THIS!"

"YES. YOU. WILL! Or I will make you!"

"I'd love to see you try!"

"You bloody pest!"

"Stubborn cow!"

"Insolent little…"

"Ladies!" Although she did not raise it, Cassandra's tone was stern demanding immediate attention. The girls quietened and she put down her things on a side table. "Please excuse me for a moment Count."

He nodded, watching her as she moved towards her sisters who suddenly looked a bit uneasy.

"Now my dears may I inquire about the problem?"

It was the youngest who spoke up first, naturally.

"The problem? The problem? The problem is that they want me to walk the staircase with that stupid book" she held up a rather big tome "on my head."

"But Steph." Tess interrupted. "All of us had to do this before our first party. It helps you not to slouch when making an entrance."

"You should be grateful that you can attend when you are twelve. The four of us were only allowed after we had turned fourteen." Raphie added a bit scornful.

Before the discussion could get out of hand again their oldest sister interfered.

"I still can't seem to find a problem. As Theresa told you the walking training helps you to keep your posture straight and we all had to walk with a volume on our head at one time or other."

"Yes, but none of you can't do it anymore. Not even Grace with her oh-so-good ballerina stance can hold this bloody book. And she is has a straight posture. So I don't see the point of me doing it altogether when I won't need it later anyways."

"I have told you over and over again that we only carry ourselves the way we do because of that training. It doesn't matter that we can't balance that thing anymore it helped nonetheless." Amelia got agitated again.

Cassie held up a hand. "No Nefer, she is right. If none of _us _can do it anymore, why should she?"

She addressed her pouting sister. "Give me the book Stephanie."

With a gloat on her face the twelve-year old handed the tome over. But just as she wanted to send a triumphant gaze in the direction of her other sisters, Cassandra spoke up once more.

"Ah the English-French dictionary. I always liked that one."

With those words she put the volume on her head adjusting it slightly. Then she began to pace, one step in front of the other, through the vestibule.

At the entrance door she turned, the book slightly wavering. Waiting till it had steadied again she strode back to the group of girls, bypassing them and began to take the staircase. Not once looking at her feet she reached the upper landing, turned again and began descending.

Dracula had to reflect back when he had first seen her walking down those steps. It seemed that this was the confirmation that she had, indeed, practised. That woman made him more curious by the minute.

Finally she reached her sisters who stood there, mouths agape. In front of Steph she halted for some seconds before slowly dropping into a deep curtsy, her pose perfect, until she was on eye level with the younger girl.

"Take the book Stephanie."

Her sister did so without hesitation and Cassandra straightened up looking at her siblings.

"Is there anything else that has to be discussed?"

Shaking heads were the only answer.

"Well then I believe your paint is drying Raphaela. Theresa, could you please get the notes and the package with the cards to Mrs Jen? Thank you, I've put them down on the table there. And you my dear better get back to your training. By the way, Gracie, your new pointed shoes are lying on your bed. Oh and Nefer, would you be so kind and take a look at my blue dress? The seam is a bit loose at the right side."

Still not talking the four girls took their leave.

"Now you have the hallway all to yourself." She had spoken to the last remaining sister who sighed. "Thank you Cassie. They were driving me nuts."

"You are welcome darling. I'm not fond of doing things like these when other people are watching, either." Softly she caressed the girl's cheek. "Now off you go. I know you can do it."

Cassandra turned to the Count. "Shall we continue, Sir?"

--O--

"An impressive performance you just displayed in the foyer." They were walking along the path that led to the western terrace when Dracula commented on the scene he had just witnessed.

"Well, some things I learned just seem to stick. And my maternal grandmother had me practise quite often." She laughed quietly glancing at him not being aware of the cable that lay across the way.

Her foot got tangled and a sharp pain shot through her twisted ankle making her loose her balance. Before she could fall however an arm like a steel band was wrapped around her torso drawing her back against a hard male chest. A chuckle caressed her ear, dark like bitter chocolate.

"Obviously she should have told you to pay heed where you are stepping Miss Graham."

The curve of her breast pressed against his arm when she drew a deep breath. Clearly his near presence affected her more than the woman would want to admit. She did not knew what a delicious picture she made, a flush on her face, lips slightly parted and her neck delightfully bared to more than his gaze. It would be so simple. But now was not the time.

"Let's see if you can stand." He loosened his grip a little, still supporting her but giving her enough freedom to move. "Easy now."

Carefully she tested her foot. When she found she could put weigh on it without being in pain she looked up at him. "Thank you Sir. That could have turned out quite nasty if you had not been here."

"Anytime Miss Graham, anytime." His hand was still lingering at her waist. "In fact who would not be happy to help a beautiful woman?"

She swallowed but before she could even try to answer him a shrill voice could be heard.

"Cassandra! Whatever is the meaning of this display?"

The woman in front of him turned. "Grandmother. You are early."

--O--

The clock had just chimed 3.pm and Dracula pinched the bridge of his nose. Since he and Cassandra had been interrupted the day had definitely went downwards. If he had thought the reaction of the family at the breakfast table quite funny he now knew that it had been more than correct.

Adelaide Graham, Richards mother, was, for a lack of words and even if he knew better, the devil in female form. She complained about anything and everything, finding fault in even the tiniest detail. Lunch could only be described as disastrous; Raphaela had left the table early to avoid the stinging tongue of her grandmother but not before shooting an angry glare at her father who seemed to be too intimidated by his own parent to help his daughter.

Afterwards the men had escaped to the grand patio discussing business plans again, finishing five minutes ago. The awful voice of the grandmother could be heard once more from inside, demanding that one of the girls should attend her for a walk. Really he did not know how the Grahams coped with that woman. He would have killed her long ago.

"There you are Sir!" The butler had just brought a bottle of whiskey and some glasses, filled three and put them down in front of them.

"Thank you Jenkins." Richard raised his glass and looked at his son and Dracula. "I think we have need of this." The noise in the house had died down.

"Grand-père is late again." Damien remarked after he had taken a sip. His father grinned. "What else is new?"

They sat in silence for some minutes each of them following their own thoughts until something else could be heard. The sound of a backfiring engine. The two Grahams smirked at each other. "Talk about the desert and the camel will appear."

"Grand-père is here." The younger man called in the direction of the open terrace door and soon after Cassandra hurried onto the patio. She had changed into a pale blue summer dress whose long skirt flowed around her.

"Yes I can hear that. And in that infernal car again. Oh stop laughing the two of you." She scolded her father and brother whose smirks merely deepened.

"Someday something will happen and then where will we be?" Anxiously she observed the path coming from the front of the building.

The backfiring had stopped and five minutes later a booming voice made its way to the ears of the four on the terrace.

"Tarara tarara tadada dada dada dam. I tell you Jenkins if you don't now this you are a philistine. Tarara." A French accent accompanied by a slight slur reprimanded the butler for not knowing the march whose melody it had delivered.

In next to no time a man came in sight as short as he was skinny, some lonely grey hairs lovingly combed over his otherwise bald head. He was brandishing a wooden walking stick with such enthusiasm that the butler next to him was endangered to be hit. The moment he got aware of them he overtook the distressed servant and made a beeline for Cassandra.

"Cass ma chère you look more like your grand-mère everyday. How are you?" Dropping two kisses on her left and right cheek he didn't wait for an answer but took off towards the table where the others had risen.

"Richard! Are those grey hairs I detect? And Damien. Where is your lovely fiancée? Is this whiskey? Mon Dieu it is. Whiskey on an afternoon, I have to declare your style got better since we've last met Richard. Fill me a glass, will you. The journey left me with a dry throat. Oh! And who might that strapping young man be?"

Finally he seemed to have detected the Count and before anybody could make introductions he had gripped the Romanians hand and pumped it.

"Claude Dumont at your service." "Count Vladislaus Dragulia. I'm delighted to make your acquaintance." Grey eyes blinked at him in confusion. "Mince alors! A real Comte?" He nodded his affirmation and the old man in front of him turned to ask his granddaughter,

"He yours?"  
"Grand-père!" Again a blush was rising on the woman's face a fact that Dracula found very interesting.

"A man can ask n'est-ce pas? So the both of you are not an item?"

Cassie shook her head. Claude shrugged.

"A pity. You two would look good together. And I need some great-grand-children."

With those words he sat down followed by the other men. Cassandra motioned to the butler that he was not longer needed and then stepped next to her grandfather's seat.

"Mother wanted me to inform you that she had an appointment and will greet you when she returns. She'll be back for dinner at the latest."

Dumont just took another sip from his whiskey which her father had poured for him.  
"Typical. Not a bone of her mère in her. But on to the more important things...tell me Richard," he leaned towards his son-in-law, "has the old witch arrived yet?"

His question was answered by the woman herself who, hanging on the arm of Grace, had returned from her walk and while ascending the grand staircase had seen him sitting on the patio.

"Claude Dumont!" Standing on the landing that interrupted the stairs she glowered up to them.

The conductor stood up with a grin on his face and lifted his arms in a mocking salute before making his way down to her.

"OLD HAG! How nice to see you. Did you put on weight?"

"As a matter of fact I lost ten pounds!" Adelaide raised her chin preparing herself for war.

"Where? Beneath your tongue or behind your ears?" came the cruel answer.

"At least I don't have the appearance of a skeleton."

"No they only could provide for a small country with the amount of food you require."

And so on and so forth. For the second time that day Cassandra pressed her fingers against her temple. Adelaide Graham and Claude Dumont had disliked each other the moment they had met over 28 years ago. And since then the battle between them had been raging. They could not agree to disagree, oh no. They always had to have a go at each other and it had gotten worse after their respectable spouses had died.

Watching the fight between them unfold made something snap inside of her. Within seconds she had spun on her heel, walked to the table and before anybody could stop her had poured herself a glass of whiskey, too.

One glance back at her grandparents whose volume was increasing, then she downed half of the alcohol.

"CASSIE!"

Her throat was burning, as she desperately tried to suppress a cough. When her eyes became dry again she could see the two shocked faces of her father and brother who did not seem to know what to make out of _this_ situation. The Count's gaze was unreadable although his eyebrows were raised, too.

"Does it help?" She looked up to see Nefer and Theresa step through the door onto the terrace.

"Not yet Tess."

"YOU INSUFFERABLE GIT!"

The three women turned to the raging war beneath them on the steps of the staircase. Amelia groaned.

"So they are at it again."

"Maybe you should drink the rest of the…what is it you have in that glass Cassie?" Theresa looked doubtful at the amber liquid.

"Whiskey." Damien stood up to join his sisters and put a hand on the shoulder of the oldest. "Countenance, Cass, countenance. Maybe it won't be that bad."

Cassandra did not even favour him with a look. "Say that again and I'm going to lock you into a room with them till Monday." That shut him up.

She sighed. "Alright we can't stand here all day. Theresa, go and rescue Gracie, she doesn't need to be in the middle of all this." Tess grimaced but began to descend towards the three people on the landing.

"Nefer I want you to change the code of the firearm safe and don't tell anybody what you choose."

Amelia was unconvinced. "Cassie they still have their walking cane and handbag. You know how inventive they are. If you want to hide everything that can be used as a weapon we might just save them the trouble and burn down the estate ourselves although I suspect that they would then use the debris to club each other over the head."

Her older sister took a deep breath.

"This isn't about them. I fear I'm going to shoot myself before this weekend is over."

The half downed whiskey glass still in her hand she vanished back inside not caring about the stares of those remaining on the patio.

--O--

Midnight found the Count outside again, strolling through the shadows while contemplating the day's proceedings. Dinner had been an adventurous affair and watching the grandparents could even be described as somewhat hilarious when one stayed out of the line of fire.

Afterwards they had been provided with a musical performance once more and this time the two singers had joined the others.

Which brought him to the matter at hand namely Miss Cassandra Graham. That woman seemed too calm and too controlled for her own good. He knew many a female that would have gotten more than distraught with the events that had occurred today. But not her.

The only genuine spark of temperament she had shown was when she had downed that alcohol, an action that had surprised him he had to admit. And even then there had been a certain serenity surrounding her. He really would like to explore what was needed to make her loose that tranquillity.

A movement at the swimming pool in front of him caught his gaze and when he sensed who it was he smirked. If it wasn't fate that the topic of his thoughts seemed to be out for a late night stroll, too, then he didn't know what was.

The moon that had been slightly covered by a cloud came out again making her clearly visible. She stood with his back to him. And he had to swallow a gasp.

Her hair was open. Down and straight it went, not a wave disturbing the smooth texture. It covered all of her back falling over her hips to stop at the end of her buttocks just where her legs began, the blonde shade in contrast with the dressing gown of crimson silk. A colour he would have never expected her to wear.

In former times females had often worn their hair long. Putting it up during the day they had only let it down in the privacy of their bedchambers. Nowadays women tended to cut it short because modern fashion dictated it or of many other reasons. And although feminism had its advantages he sometimes missed the intimacy when a woman opened her hair just for him so he could let it run through his fingers.

Silently he strode through the shadows till he had a front view of her. She just seemed to have finished looking at the night sky as she walked to the stairs that led into the water. Would she go for a swim at this late hour?

No she didn't. Her hands only grabbed some of the crimson fabric of the kimono drawing it up to her thighs revealing slender calves. Then she stepped into the pool till her knees were surrounded.

Eyes closing, head thrown back she stood there enjoying the cool liquid lapping against her skin and he could not help comparing her to a nymph. A nymph that only came out when she thought no one was looking, a creature that for the rest of the time was hidden behind a severe hairstyle and a ramrod straight posture.

He did not know how long she remained in the water with him watching her. Finally she got out of it, dried her legs with a small towel and went back into the house. And the Count decided for himself that he had found a new prey.

* * *

Hello everybody!

This is number four. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. It's a very long chapter and I made a last minute decision in not splitting it. I'd really like to hear your opinion about that: Would two shorter parts have been better? Or is the length good as it is? I'm a bit unsure about that.

The used French:  
grand-père (grandfather)  
ma chère (my dear)  
grand-mère (grandmother)  
Mon Dieu! (My God!)  
Mince alors! (Blimey!)  
n'est-ce pas (isn't that right)  
mère (mother)

To those who reviewed:

DEMONCC: Thank you for the review. Here is the next chapter and I really hope you like this one, too.

Remember: See? It's over. I'm very excited for you. This means writing time. Much writing time. Btw: you know I adore your reviews right? Right. Ttyl.

ForeverACharmedOne: As promised: chapter 4 by the end of the week. Oh and: it was mostly me being a bit slow on the uptake, nothing serious, I sometimes suffer from that, hehe. And I like getting new blood…I definitely like it. So did you like this chapter?

StarlessSkies87: You always know what I want to hear, do you? The portraying of the many characters gave me many sleepless nights. Literally speaking. Thank you very much for your kind review. And don't worry about the late review. I'm a law student at university myself and I know how it is. The most important thing is that you read the story and that you liked it. The review is the topping on the cake.

Thank you for reading…how about pressing that little button down there and telling me what you think? I might update faster….(insert evil laughter here)

Next chapter will be coming soon!  
-Roux


	6. Chapter 5: Saturday's dances

**Chapter V**

_**Saturday's dances**_

* * *

"**Dancing**** is a perpendicular expression of a horizontal ****desire, legalized by music****.****"**

_George Bernhard Shaw_

* * *

She could feel herself awakening the fog of sleep around her consciousness clearing. Step by step she regained her senses noticing the softness of the cotton sheets and the cool of the satin nightgown. The song of the birds outside met her ears and…something tickled her nose.

When Cassandra opened her eyes on this fine Saturday morning she looked directly into the face of George who regarded her with cool superiority. Then his tongue snaked out and tickled her nose again.

"Ack!"

A round of giggles was the answer to this statement, the python was lifted away from her line of vision and she got aware of her sisters surrounding her bed sporting grins that could only be described as mischievous.

"Morning Cassie. Slept well?" Steph sat down on the mattress while her oldest female sibling propped herself up on her elbows.

"Yes indeed I did. But what are the five of you doing here? Isn't it a bit early for you to be…" She turned to the clock on her nightstand.

"Oh my god! It's after nine!"

Pure horror in her eyes she made attempts to get up which proofed more than futile. The other girls had followed the example of Stephanie and had made themselves comfortable on the bedstead, too, thus pinning the blanket and with this the beds occupant effectively to the mattress.

"Calm down Cass. We were the ones who switched off your alarm and took over while you slept." Raphie shoved a clipboard that looked suspiciously like the one Cassandra had used the last few days under her panicking sister's nose.

"We tried out this new concept called teamwork. All chores till eleven are done."

"Which gives you enough time to eat something." Tess put down a heavily loaded tray next to a wide eyed Cassie who regarded the ticked of tasks with astonishment.

"The technique is done?"

"Yup."  
"The trimming of the shrubbery, too?"

"As you can see. Now stop worrying and grab a bite. We did not all of this just to have you stressed again." Nefer fluffed out the pillows behind her sisters back while Grace poured a cup of tea. A bit less nervous but still surprised Cassandra leaned against the headboard.

"You did all this so I could calm down a bit?" Five heads nodded in affirmation.

"Thank you my dears. That was very thoughtful of you. I really don't know what to say."

"How about you shut up altogether and try one of the croissants. They have strawberry marmalade on it."

--O--

The day of the party had come with even more anxiety for the people working to make this festivity a success and the hour before noon found the household in a state best described as bedlam. Through this chaos crept the small figure of a twelve year old girl her treasure protectively pressed against her chest. Now she would finally know what the secret of this book was.

She found it the night when she had slept in Cassie's room under one of the pillows. When she had asked about it she had only gotten a rapidly blushing sister as an answer who had taken the tome from her putting it into her nightstand. Deciding that whatever Cass hid would be worth her time she had come back for it just some minutes ago now being on her way outside to find a nice and quiet spot to begin reading.

But when Stephanie rounded the next corner her plans were thwarted.

"Oomph."

The collision with another body was unexpected and for a moment she saw stars, swaying on her feet, the book falling to the floor. A hand clamped around her shoulder steadying her.

"This seems to be getting a habit of mine."

Her sight cleared again and she got aware of the person in front of her. Black shirt, black suit. She looked up. Blue eyes. The Count.

"I'm sorry I didn't want to run into you. I didn't mind where I was going."

The tall man smiled down at her.

"Yes this appears to be a general problem here." His gaze fell on the volume. Bending over he grasped it and wanted to give it back to her when he took note of the author and the title. One of his eyebrows rose as Steph began to squirm.

"I wouldn't deem this an appropriate reading material for your age Miss Stephanie. This isn't your book I presume?"

The teenager shifting from one foot to the other was enough confirmation.

"No it's Cassandra's."

Extremely interesting.

"And she doesn't know that you have it, or does she?"

She knew she was caught. He almost did not understand her when she mumbled a response.

"No she doesn't."

Grey eyes looked up at him in despair.

"But please Sir, don't tell her. I'm going to bring it back now."

"I'm afraid I can't do that Miss Stephanie. As much as I believe you would like to return it I wouldn't want you to be tempted again." Her face fell when she heard his words but he did not care. To present Cassandra Graham with this book was just too much of an opportunity to miss. And besides little Stephanie had to learn that stealing wasn't a small peccadillo.

"I'm going to take this tome to your sister. And if I may give you an advice…I don't think she will be that cross with you if you help the others with the last minute preparations. Wouldn't you agree?"

The girl nodded at him, lips in a small pout.

"Yes.

"Then off with you. And don't let me catch you again, hm?" Dracula sent her a last alluring smile that seemed to lift up her spirits a bit then the youngest disappeared into the next hallway.

Regarding the book in his hand with a grin he took off to find its owner. Let's see what prim and proper Miss Graham would make out of this.

--O--

It was of no use. Once more did she shuffle through the stack of papers on her desk. The list with the food the catering wanted to provide had vanished without a trace. Annoyed Cassandra turned to the shelf next to her. Maybe she had put it into one of the folders.

Cyan pupils watched her from the entrance. She had not noticed him yet. His pursuit for her had not lasted long as one of the servants had told him that he had seen her in her study only some minutes ago and after some quick directions he had found it the door being slightly open just as the one of the music room had been yesterday. Clearly this woman with her back to him did not think highly of closing off her quarters.

While she seemed to search for something he regarded the bureau. Although one could see the feminine air in small things it still had a surprisingly masculine touch. The wood of the furniture was dark and a thick Persian carpet lay on the floor and even though the sun was shining through the two high windows a lamp on the desk had to glow to provide the working surface with enough light.

A frustrated sigh drew him back to the female. Obviously her rummaging around did not bring the desired result.

"Are you looking for this?"

Cassandra was glad that she had just put the folder back. Otherwise she would have dropped it. Startled she turned to the source of the voice and had a certain sense of déjà vu when her gaze met the Count. Hadn't she told herself yesterday after their encounters in the music room and the garden not to be alone with him? And now this. So much for making resolutions.

He advanced on her and she could hear the faint click of the door when it fell shut. And again not a word came through her lips. Again she was rooted to the spot. She was not even able to blink anymore, those predatory eyes of him binding every muscle.

This was how the mice Theresa fed to George had to feel and she would have stood there till days to come if he had not held up a book.

"It appears you have lost something Miss Graham."

Finally she noticed the tome in his hand and he could see she recognized it immediately, her face glowing in a delightful red.

"Oh my…Where did you..?"

He smirked at her, unfazed by her obvious embarrassment.

"Oh one of your siblings was so kind to provide me with it."

Cassandra knew of whom he was talking in an instant and obtained her ability to build full sentences back.

"It seems I have to think about locking my doors."

"Why don't you start with closing them?"

There was no way the amusement in his voice could be missed. The woman in front of him was just that short from squirming like her little sister had done not ten minutes ago and she'd do a lot more when he was through with her. He would make sure of it.

"But tell me Miss Graham – "Seduction" from Amanda Quick? I would have adjudged you a finer taste in reading materials." If possible she blushed even more before she got the book from him and moved to the desk depositing it on the surface. The pale violet of its binding created an ill contrast to the dark wood. Cassandra turned to the Count once more.

"I don't see something wrong with a bit of light reading." She observed with unease when he followed her, approaching in the graceful manner he possessed.

"Light reading? Miss Graham this is a dime novel. A woman of your position should not even think about buying trash as this." He shot the book a look of contempt before taking the last few feet that still parted them.

It was insane to even consider this. She should have told him off. Nonetheless the first words that came to her mind found the way into the open.

"Oh? And what should a woman of my position have in her private library?"

His voice dropped when he bowed down to her, whispering in her ear.

"If you want to read about seduction my dear there are better works than those of the penny dreadful. Maybe I could recommend one or two?"

Her lids closed of her own accord her skin burning with the desire to experience his lips where now only his breath lingered. She didn't see the triumph in his pupils that were watching her reactions, not the slightest shudder escaping them. His senses were dancing joyfully to the pace of her racing pulse and softly as not to alarm her he raised a hand to place it on her waist.

"Cassie we need…Oh."

Grey eyes opened in shock gaping at the entrance and the there standing Theresa with a mixture of horror and disbelief. Tess stared back at the picture her sister and the house guest were presenting, her expression similar to that of Cassandra.

"I'm sorry...I should…knock…and…I …go...now."

Still not being exactly capable to detach herself from the two people in front of her she made some attempts to close the door again. Or at least grasp the handle.

"That won't be necessary Miss Theresa."  
At first he had wanted to strangle her. What was it with the Grahams and their habit for disturbing him? But when he looked at it from another angle then perhaps this untimely interruption could work to his advantage.

"We will continue our conversation later."

With one last look that had Cassandra grasp the edge of her desk for support he left the room.

The siblings gazed at each other none of them able to speak until after some minutes a sly grin spread on Tess' lips. She opened her mouth to comment on the scene she had just witnessed but her older sister was faster.

"One word Theresa Marie Graham and I'm going to tell Nefer that you expressed the wish to go jogging with her every morning for the next three weeks."

"But…"

Cassie cut her off.

"Try to think about protesting and I'm going to make it three months." Her face softened when the girl nodded.

"Please Tess just let it rest. Now what was it you needed my help with?"

--O--

Time flew by in a rush not giving the oldest Graham sister a minute to catch her breath and really think about what had happened. Only when she was showering, two hours before the first guests would arrive, she finally was able to set her mind on their mysterious visitor and their, in her opinion, unfortunate meetings.

Something about him made her stomach turn and she wasn't sure if this was entirely positive. Within her twenty-six years Cassandra had met her fair share of men and none of them, be it her father or brother or anyone else, had come remarkably close to the Count.

From the whole manner he carried himself to the way he interacted with the other members of the household he displayed pure aristocracy not giving anyone the reason to dislike him but making clear that he was used to be obeyed at the same time.

If she didn't know better she would not have thought him a Count but a king or an emperor, a ruler of a great country who kept a tight reign on his subjects. His behaviour intrigued her, she had to admit. Even when he was only observing the people around him one was aware of his presence. And more often than she would have liked she had felt his eyes resting on her.

While massaging some shampoo into scalp she wished not for the first time since Thursday to possess the ability of mind reading. What did he think about her? She had observed him to be a perfect gentleman and only during those three times when they had been alone he had treated her differently from her other female relatives. Could this still be called flirting? Or was there a more ultimate motive behind his behaviour? No male until now had irritated her like this and Cassandra did not believe that to be a good thing. She hated not being in control and Count Dragulia made her feel a bit like a puppet on a string.

"Cassie? Have the sharks eaten you? Or are you drowning?"

A knock on the bathroom door as well as Raphaela's anxious question made her pause in her musings.

"I'll be with you in a moment darling." Deciding that her pondering was not helpful to the cause of getting ready for the party Cassandra turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. A bathrobe and a towel were already waiting for her and after she had wrapped herself and her hair she opened the door and stepped out into her bedroom.

As always before a party or a ball or actually every feast that needed a certain amount of preparing oneself, her sisters had assembled in her quarters. It was kind of tradition that they would help each other ensuring that all of them looked nothing less than perfect.

This time was no exception and so her bed- and living room were bustling with busy girls. Grace sitting in front of the vanity turned when she entered.

"Do you think my golden earrings fit the dress? I find them a bit too heavy for my liking."

Cassandra considered the jewellery her sister held next to her ear.

"Yes you are right. Silver would be better. Or maybe…"

Pulling out a drawer she held up a velvet case.

"Why don't you try this?"

Gracie's eyes widened.

"Are those grandmother's diamonds?"

"Yes. I'm wearing gold tonight so you may have them. See?" She opened the box to reveal the set of a beautiful diamond necklace with matching earrings. The design was simple, drop shaped gems in a silver setting, but fitting for a night as this.

"They would look gorgeous with the dye of your dress. What do you think?" Grace only beamed at her.

"Fabulous. Seems you are reading my mind Cassie. I wanted to ask you if you could lend them to her anyway."  
Nefer had joined them still clad in jeans and a blouse but her hair in a stunning Grecian style updo. A double string of pearls used as a hair band held the light brown strands in place giving the nineteen year old an exotic air that was a tribute to her unusual nickname.

"But you if you don't want to greet the guests in a bathrobe I propose we get started on you. We'll need our time to get you dry."  
Grabbing her siblings hand Amelia dragged Cassandra into the parlour where the other three girls were fussing over themselves each of them in various states of preparation. Raphaela wore her dress yet but her short brown strands still resembled a rat's nest. Tess' curls were already framing her face and she was sitting in her undergarments in front of a mirror that Stephanie held up for her, applying some face powder. Only the youngest appeared to be quite ready her dress in place, the blond tresses properly groomed a single velvet band adorning them.

"Ladies we need the hairdryer's. Raphie you take right, I take left and Tess, stop powdering yourself or you are going to look like a ghost, you take the back."  
Five minutes after that declaration Cassie was sitting on a stool, the girls surrounding her while the noise of three hairdryer's enclosed her ears a soft pull telling her that Nefer had begun to brush while drying.

Cassandra could feel herself relax. The girls knew what they were doing.

--O--

"Eight twenty. They should be out any minute now." For the umpteenth time in the last quarter hour Damien made use of his watch. His friends next to him grinned and Matthew threw an arm around his shoulder.

"One would think you are waiting for your bride not your sisters. Apropos: Where is your little sweetheart anyway?"

"In Glasgow. She was not able to get off from work with the wedding next month and all of that. Her boss wants her to finish some project or other before going on holiday. By god where are they?" Again he checked the time.

Jonathan next to him grabbed a champagne glass from a tray carried by one of the passing servants and shoved it into the younger mans hand.

"Here drink. Why are you so anxious?"

The son of his boss downed the alcohol in one gulp.

"I have no idea. Maybe it's because of him." A nod of his head showed the others whom he meant.

The Count was standing in the middle of a group of men deep in conversation. Richard was among them as well as a slender man with grey hair that Jon recognized as his own father.

"Dragulia?"

"Yes. I don't know why but something about him sets me off. You should see how he looks at Cassie." Damien frowned and he wasn't the only one. A crease had appeared between the eyes of the younger Mr Woods.

"He is interested in Cassandra?"

"Seems so. At least he gazed at her this noon as if she was the lunch and not the steak on his plate although I don't think he was aware of me noticing it and…quiet…they come."

The other men were sauntering towards them. Greetings were exchanged and the two fathers mocked their sons a bit about the empty glasses in their hands.

Something was wrong Dracula observed. Although polite, Jonathan Woods' behaviour was sending him some signals that definitely spoke of contempt which was strange because the last time they had talked those signs had not been there.

But before he could spare another thought on the matter the band on the right side of the grand patio began to play. A row of lights illuminated the staircase. Then the terrace doors were thrown open.

They moved in perfect unison heads held high spines straight. Every step was taken with the utmost elegance kept in time with the music that was enveloping the gardens. The Graham women had entered the party.

All of them wore a shade of green ranging from the deep moss of Cordelia's dress to the lightest jade on Stephanie. Emerald brought a glow on Raphaela's skin and the sea green Grace wore enhanced the chocolate colour of her hair most pleasingly. The daughters had taken their mother in the middle next to her Nefer and Cassandra with Raphie and their seventeen year old sister beside them, the two youngest walking on the outside.

The group stopped at the middle landing and when the music ceased applause could be heard. As always the females of the household had succeeded in making an entrance. Theresa was handed a microphone by a waiting servant.

"Thank you ladies and gentlemen. It's a pleasure to have you here to celebrate with us the homecoming of our mother whom we hereby want to bid welcome once more."

She passed the micro to Raphie.

"Furthermore this party is the last one before our dearest brother enters the state of marriage. His fiancée can't be here tonight but she will be in our minds."

Now it was Nefer's place to speak.

"Entertainment will be provided this evening by the Dumont Big Band under the conduct of Maestro Claude Dumont our esteemed grandfather who has yet again agreed to spend a party standing in front of his musicians. And now I hand over to the woman who has spent so much time preparing this feast that she fell asleep when we made her hair."

Laughter came up when Cassandra shook her head at a grinning Amelia.

"There's not much to add. The buffet can be found over there on the meadow and of course our wonderful employees will offer you certain beverages. I wish all of us a pleasant party and hope you enjoy yourself. We will now open the dance floor as its tradition. Damien?"

Giving the micro back to the servant she reached out to her brother who ascended the stairs towards them, followed by his father. After leading wife and sister up to the terrace they took position on the parquet especially laid out for this evening to provide a proper surface for dancing. A nod of Claude and the band began to play a Viennese.

"You fell asleep?"

Damien grinned at his sister and his hand putting a bit more pressure on her shoulder blade. She uttered a sigh.

"Yes I did. I only woke when the girls had already finished with my hair." Turn, turn, change, reverse turn.

"I like what they did. It looks good and dare I say it, modern." Open, cross, close, turn some more.

Many of the guests had gathered around the dance floor watching the two couples waiting for the sign to join them. Dracula too was studying brother and sister who glided smoothly to the melody of Strauss' Anniversary Waltz.

"And again they are dancing our parents into the ground."

The Count turned to the girl clad in mint green at his left.

"After your words I presume this happens often Miss Theresa?"

She smiled at him.

"All the time. The two of them are a well attuned team. They had their dance lessons together so they know how the other moves in their sleep."

He looked again at Damien who just led Cassandra into a twirl under their leading hands.

"I expect they are not the only ones who had lessons?"

"Of course not. All of us were taught even Stephanie can hold herself in a waltz although she is still learning."

The song came to an end. Father and son exchanged their dance partners and more couples took up places on the floor. Theresa could see her other sisters among them the youngest in position with the fourteen year old brother of Matthew who himself was with Grace. A hand appeared in front of her face.

"May I ask for this dance?"

Blue eyes twinkled merrily when a confused expression appeared on her face.

"Are you serious?" She blushed when she became aware of her mistake.

"I'm sorry. Of course you may."

Dracula could feel her hand trembling in his when he escorted her next to Alexis and Nefer in a malachite coloured dress who beamed encouragingly at her younger sister.

"Relax Miss Theresa. I'm not going to bite you. It's just a waltz."

She shivered a bit more.

"This is what I'm afraid of. I hate Viennese waltzes. I love to look at others doing them but I hate to dance them myself. I always seem to stumble and I apologize in advance if I step on your foot." Her blunt statement earned her a chuckle.

"Well then I expect you had the wrong partners. Let's see how the both of us fare, shall we?" The girl firmly situated in is arms he began and with each step they made he could feel her loosen up. Despite their difference in height there was no awkwardness in their dance as she wore heels and was moving actually very lightly on her feet a fact he complimented her on.

"Thanks. I don't know what it is. Maybe you were right and it was the fault of the men I have waltzed with."

"It has to be. You are a remarkable dancer Miss Theresa never let anybody else tell you otherwise." Her cheeks glowed at his last declaration.

"Thank you Count. And please, it's Tess. Or is this too bold?"

"There are worse things. Although asking a man who is more than twice your age to call you by your nickname may be recorded as a bit daring in some circles…Miss Tess." The corners of his mouth twisted when she rolled her eyes.

"Dear god this isn't the middle ages. Besides I know your secret so I should be able to express a wish, wouldn't you say?"

"And about which secret are we speaking?" Carefully he manoeuvred them around Damien and his mother.

"Why, are you having more than one? We are speaking of course of Cassandra and the little scene in her study. You are interested in her?" A dark eyebrow rose.

"And if I am?" She regarded him cautiously.

"Then I'd like to know what your intentions are."

"Now you are getting too bold."

His next turn knocked her breath away underlining his statement. But the girl did not give up.

"And what are you going to do against it?" He smirked again. She surely had spunk.  
"Are you flirting with me Miss Tess?"

"As you have said yourself you are more than twice my age. So no. I'm just asking." An innocent smile adorned her lips.

"Then let me answer the question with one of my own. What happens if I pull at this cord?"

Theresa's dress consisted of two parts a wide flowing skirt and a bodice that was no actual corset but featured the lacing of one at the back. It complimented her small waist and voluptuous figure without showing it off too much. The Counts fingertips played with the bow where the strings were tied threatening to loosen them. Tess swallowed but raised her chin bravely.

"Nothing would happen. Have you ever heard of double-sided adhesive tape? Besides I could always step on your foot."

Throwing his head back in laughter he led her into a reverse turn.

"Alright Miss Tess I declare defeat."

"May I then get an answer to my question?"

"But of course. Actually I wanted to ask you for some advice…"

--O--

Two a.m. was long over and the younger participants of the party had already been sent to bed at midnight. Soon the end of the festivity would be announced. A content Cassandra was making her way through the guests stopping here and there engaging in small-talk. The evening had been another success and the compliments she received made up for all the stress she had during the last weeks. Now if only the wedding was over then she would be able to slow down a bit.

"Cassie my girl. Come here."

She smiled when she became aware of the speaker. Thomas Woods the other senior partner next to her father made a beckoning motion and she walked to the group of men consisting of him, her father, her brother, the Count and the three junior partners.

"I wanted to tell you what a wonderful party this is." She inclined her head gratefully.

"Thank you Uncle Thomas." Knowing him since early childhood, the fathers being just as close as their sons, she had always called him this.

Alexis was presently handing Damien a glass with something that looked definitely like alcohol and Cassie could not help herself to remark on it.

"This isn't tequila I hope?"

The question brought on some mirth. Jonathan looked fondly at his best friend's sister.

"Never fear Cassandra. He won't forget the date this time, I promise."

"All I ask is that you let him be punctual to his own wedding next month." She pulled the may green wrap closer around her shoulders. The night air was cooler than expected.

"I swear he will be able to say his marriage vows in time." He could not let his eyes waver from her. The dress made out of burnout chiffon from the same colour as the wrap endued her splendidly. Broad straps shaped into a V-neckline, a dark green velvet band under her bust and a chiffon rose at the front enhancing it. Her hair had been gathered into a modern chignon, having been twisted till it had coiled around itself in Cassie's neck only helping it stay in place.

But it wasn't the dress or the hairstyle that made Jon gaze at the woman. It was the glow on her face and the warmth with which she spoke to his father. It was the graceful sway of her hips. It was just Cassandra. Noticing his friends' stare Damien sighed inaudibly. Poor sod. He would never learn.

Dracula observed the display with interest. So the young Mr. Woods had a soft spot for the oldest Graham girl and if he interpreted the signals coming from the other men correctly it was clear to them too. Only the object of desire seemed oblivious.

"Ladies and gentlemen I know announce the last waltz for this evening. So if you want to do a Viennese once more I suggest you get up here." Claude's voice sounded even more booming through the micro.

Jon made a move towards Cassie but the Count, a cruel glint in his eyes, was faster.

"Miss Graham I believe I've had not yet the pleasure of dancing with you. May I ask for this last waltz?"

"I'd be delighted Sir." Excusing herself from the men she took the offered hand and he led her to the stairs after sending a short look back at a dumbfounded Jonathan. This is how you do it.

--O--

Cassandra felt as if she was flying. She had known he was a good dancer as she had seen him with Tess and the girl herself had told her, too. But experiencing it was an entirely different thing from just hearing it.

He was dominant; guiding her powerful through the reverse turns the pressure on her shoulder blade much heavier than she was used from Damien but nonetheless not unpleasant.

She fit perfectly against his body. Her head left, her hand lightly resting on his biceps she followed his conduct giving him the control she normally held tightly in her slender hands.

"Do you know the name of the waltz? I don't believe I've heard it before." Caching a whiff of his cologne she gazed up at him before shifting her view back over his left shoulder. Spicy yet elegant and undeniably masculine the fragrance filled her nose getting her to think of leather, wood and cold winter air.

"Miss Graham?" His voice drew her back to reality.

"It's called "Coronation Waltz" by Henry Mancini. My grandfather loves his work." How embarrassing to forget to answer a question over the aroma of a men's perfume.

"I like it. Now how about we liven things up a bit. Attention!" She had no chance to remark on the words as he had turned again and afterwards opened the position letting go of her entirely. Only the push he had given her shortly before doing this told her how to act and so she made a step alongside him, revolved once, twice and then found herself back in his arms.

"Well done." He could feel her heart pounding the blood running through her veins at a faster pace than the rhythm they were dancing to. Nevertheless she smiled.

"A warning would have been nice." The Count chuckled.

"But my dear where is the surprise in that. You know the steps so just let yourself be led into them. The song is not over yet." With that he pushed her away once more while holding her right hand in his left, twirling her around.

The rest of the dancers soon left the parquet to give them more room gathering around to witness this couple. It was like watching night and day waltzing with each other the dark man and the light woman gliding over the floor fluidly. They were engaged in a conversation they did not know about, not through the words that were exchanged but by means of their movements who spoke of secrets as old as the world itself.

Richard and Cordelia belonged to those on the sidelines the eyes of the mother gleaming the father gaping befuddled at his oldest daughter and his costumer. It seemed his wife and Claude had been right. They looked good together.

Damien put a comforting hand on the shoulder of his best friend.

Dumont raised his arms and the final notes were played.

Cassandra was twirled a last time.

Then the music stopped. And the audience applauded.

Dracula bowed to the woman and she curtseyed deeply the way she done it before in front of her sisters. Straightening he held out his hand helping her up.

"It was delightful Miss Graham. I hope that I will have that pleasure again at some time in the future."

"It would be an honour milord." Cassie inclined her head before letting him guide her off the parquet into the throng of people.

--O--

Three thirty. Cool silk surrounded her body. Exhausted she slid between the cotton sheets relieving her aching feet from her weight. It wasn't long till Cassandra fell asleep, still a particular scent lingering in her nose and the tune of a certain waltz playing in her ears.

* * *

The party chapter…finally. This one was bloody hard to write and even harder to revise. But here it is.

About the music and the pictures in this chapter. You will find the links in my bio directly over the stories, just scroll to the bottom of it.

A special thanks to those who have reviewed; ForeverACharmedOne (I'm waiting anxiously for you to update) and Remember (hugs&kisses and much love from G).

Reviews make my days and are motivating me to ignore my university books and get the next part of the revising done. In case you wondered: Yes, the story is finished (ask Remember) although some parts (just a few) are still in writing and not on my computer. But I have only written for my friends until now, who had English as second language, too and who did not care about my English grammar as long as they knew how the story continued. So I need to read over the chapters again and do some revising.

This takes it's time as I want to do accurately and my workload from university does not always give me this time. So the next chapter may come mid June for all I know. But it will get better once the holidays have started I promise.

And as mentioned above, if I know there are people out there who like this story and the persons in it, I'm more motivated to get myself in front of the screen and correct my horrible grammar.

I'd really like to hear your opinion. However I know that writing reviews isn't always that easy because sometimes one just can't think of a thing to say. So this is why I created the following for those who suffer like I did from lack of inspiration regarding reviews (insert grin here). Actually I got the idea from another German fanfiction author although I can't for the love of god tell you who it was.

:-) I like it and want to know what happens. Make a bonfire out of your books and update missy.

:-/ Uhm…well.

:-( I want the last thirty minutes of my life back.

So how about pressing that little button down there?

Thank you for reading. Till chapter six.

-Roux


	7. Chapter 6: Special delivery

**Chapter VI**

_**Special delivery**_

* * *

"**Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind, which are delivered down from generation to generation as ****presents**** to the posterity of those who are yet unborn.****"**

_Joseph Addison_

* * *

He was a sight to behold, she thought. The grey suit, Armani no doubt, enhanced his slender but well built figure. Under the white shirt of which the first three buttons were undone, one could almost make out the rippling of hard muscles.

Her hand twitched as she imagined what those muscles would feel like. She could see it in her mind, his toned body covering hers, her fingers freeing his hair from the black band that held the tresses together at the nape of his neck. He had made his way through the foyer now, stopping in front of her, greeting her in French.

"Bonsoir Mademoiselle. How are you on this pleasant evening?"

A blush rose on her cheeks when she stammered an answer.

"Bonsoir Monsieur, I'm fine. And you?"

"I'm very well. It's always a great pleasure to see the smile of a beautiful lady." The soft foreign accent that reached her ear weakened her knees and did nothing for her general composure. But the tall man did not mind her frenzied state. Before she could find a response to his flattering he spoke again.

"I believe the Imperial Suite informed you of my visit?" The short question was a forceful reminder of her job.

"Oui Monsieur. You are expected. A minute please, I just call somebody to lead you up to the suite." She reached for the phone but before she could pick up the speaker a strong male hand covered her own.

"That's not necessary I know my way. I have been here before, remember? You were on duty, too, that evening." As if she could forget. He had fascinated her from the beginning. She nodded her assent.

Carefully he placed a kiss on her knuckles, amusement marking his features when her mouth dropped open due to this gesture.

"I hope I'll see you again when I come back from my appointment. Jusqu'à alors." A final smile then he turned and went to the lift at the other end of the hall. The last she saw of him that evening were his sea green eyes that bore into hers before the doors of the elevator closed.

--O--

Grinning he observed himself in the surrounding mirrors. That little receptionist was sweet and obviously very amenable to his charms. It was almost too easy. A short "Ping" told him that he had reached the right floor and two minutes later he found himself knocking on the door to the Imperial Suite. When it opened the grin that had never left his face widened. Piano music was ringing through the air.

"Evening Mikhail."

The Valet in front of him bowed and motioned for him to enter.

"Good evening Viscount. The master is expecting you."

--O--

Again he strode through the living room. He had done so the whole evening planning and scheming, watching the pictures the big plasma TV provided for him and once in a while scrutinizing the articles and photos scattered over the table in front of the fireplace.

"What is it you are not telling me?" Slim fingers were moving with amazing speed over ivory keys playing with a grandezza he would not have adjudged the nineteen year old female on the screen.

When he had told his valet on Monday to gather every information that could be found about the oldest Graham sister he had never thought he'd be presented with this. A sample of the woman's talent as well as the temperament he had guessed was lying safely hidden, was much more than he had anticipated. One day he would thank Cordelia's manager for pressuring the singer into agreeing to a home story.

Dracula had to give it to his servant. Instead of just getting the screen edition of the story Mikhail had somehow discovered a raw uncut version which featured a whole sequence of thirty minutes of Cassandra playing piano. The film crew had seemed to have taken a liking to her. At the moment some clapping could be heard as she had finished her piece and calls grew loud for another one.

He smirked when he saw that well-known blush flitter over her cheeks. But nonetheless she obliged her audience. The small hands moved into position and he stopped in front of the TV curious what came next.

Brahms.

Automatically his fingers found the proper button on the remote control and the volume increased and it was at this moment that his Valet answered the door. After letting the guest enter the two men waited for him to acknowledge them.

A swift gesture told both to be quiet, another one the visitor to step nearer.

Mikhail left the room and out of the corner of his eye he could see the other man taking his place next to him but not after bowing low.

Together they watched the piano player on the screen and only after some minutes the Count broke the silence.

"What do you think?"

The answer that was given amused him.

"She needs to curve the pinky of her right hand a bit more."

With a short laugh he stopped the video and turned fully to his "guest". The Viscount de Bastide had been one of the first people he had turned after his resurrection and since then the man had become one of his most trusted and most valuable of those he had made for his new society.

Standing almost as high as Dracula, dark brown locks gathered into a tail similar to the one of his master, the descendant of Italian and French nobility was a figure of power and elegance only surpassed by the Count himself to whom Bastide showed every deference. The only one to whom he did this.

Despite being of a more easy-going nature than Dracula himself Raoul de Bastide knew what he owed to his rank as Viscount and his pride. Nobody crossed him and got away with it. Nobody.

"How was your trip? And don't stand on ceremony!" The Count moved to one of the gold and red sofas at the fireplace leaving the remote control on a sideboard. Sitting down he mentioned to de Bastide to take a seat on the other chaise longue so that they could face each other with the table between them.

"Oh quite lovely. The food was tasty, the stewardesses gorgeous and there were no turbulences." The Viscount leaned back, a sneer tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Your sarcasm has seen better times Bastide. Tell me how is my business? I hope that my short trip to the Americas has not given you enough time to ruin me." A snap of his fingers and Mikhail appeared with a silver plate carrying two crystal glasses with a matching carafe containing crimson liquid.

The younger man waited with his answer till the servant, after having filled a glass for each of the two noblemen, had left once more and the both of them had taken a drink.

"Everything is fine. No great changes from my last report. I have all of the numbers here." He produced a small USB-Stick from the inside of his jacket, putting it down on the marble surface in front of him. In the course of this he noticed one of the pictures to be of the female he had seen playing piano only some minutes before.

She looked older in it at least five or six years. The whole table seemed to be littered with photographs and newspaper articles all of them showing the same woman.

Raising his head his eyes met the cyan ones of his master that studied him over the rim of a glass of blood. A teasing smile twisted around the Counts mouth.

"You should take better care of your surroundings Bastide."

The Viscount just looked at Dracula who suddenly began to laugh.

"If you have a question, ask it! Really, where is your usual eloquence?"

"I don't think one question would be enough, master. But to oblige you: may I ask if you met her during your stay at Long Island?"

The Count twirled his glass between two long fingers making the liquid in it swirl along its confines.

"Indeed I did. She is the oldest daughter of Cordelia and Richard Graham, Cassandra. An interesting woman."

The vampire in front of him looked thoughtfully at the pictures again.

"And she is playing hard to get? Or why else all this information about her?" His eyebrows almost meeting his hairline he regarded a tabloid article about a garden party at Graham Manor.

"Playing? My dear Bastide this woman is anything but playing. You know the kind I think. A typical lady stuffed up to her neck in morals and noncommittal smiles but hungering for a bit of passion. Add some well-hidden temperament and you have it." Taking another sip of the blood he waited for the Viscount to respond.

"Yes master I'm familiar with that sort of woman. But I have to admit I can't seem to share your fascination. With all due respect but where are the obstacles? By my experience I have found those "ladies" we are talking about to be the easiest to seduce not exactly hard to get. Just wait till the husband is on a business trip and they fall willingly into the first arms that offer the adventure of some adultery." He shook his head disgustedly. But Dracula just laughed some more.

"Bastide you disappoint me. It seems the flight has vanished away some of your brain cells. You know the type of women I go for. If they are not presenting a challenge they are not worth my time for more than a few hours. So you should know that the lovely Miss Graham does not fall under the definition you just gave. That woman embodies more obstacles than the Mother Superior of a convent, all the while showing excellent manners. The topic of our conversation is what laymen would call a "real lady" and I'd have to agree with them if not for her young age of twenty-six. No woman under at least thirty can be called a lady. But Cassandra is getting there. Watch."

The Count stood up and went to the DVD-recorder. A quick exchange of the CDs and another film was played on the screen of the plasma TV. It was a short reportage of a magazine programme about a charity ball showing the oldest Miss Graham, clad in a dream of dark burgundy, as one of the hostesses.

"Are you seeing now what I mean?" Dracula stopped the scene and turned back to the younger vampire who was sitting a bit dumbfounded between the gold and red cushions.

"I have to apologize. Of course I should have known that your fine taste would find a more worthy object than those I described. This woman …well this may sound bizarre but she reminds me of my mother. Or better my grandmother."

Contemplating the words of de Bastide the Count moved back to his settee.

"Your grandmother? That's interesting. Why would you say that?" Leaning back he regarded the other man curiously.

"Actually I don't know. Maybe it's the way she moves. One could call it gliding. My grandmother and my mother both walked that way. I think Nonna once told me that her own mother made her pace the hallway with a book on her head so that she learned to walk like this."

He pointed to the screen.

"If she has the potential to be a "real lady" could she be bride material as well?"

Dracula had to smile inwardly about his second-in-command. It was a question within a question. He knew that the society of vampires wanted to see a queen at their kings' side and there was more than one turned female that would have gladly filled that position. So Bastide was enquiring about his intentions, just like little Theresa had done before, only that the man in front of him acted more subtle and because of somewhat different reasons.

"Bride material? First you don't want to grant her the ability to provide a challenge and catch my attention and now you want to know if I intend to make her my bride? You have a hard time making decisions this evening I have to say. But to answer your question: No. She may prove to be a bit harder to seduce as other women. But in the end she will relent. It is just a question of the method."

The last statement made his guest lean forward understanding dawning in the sea green pupils a smirk creeping on the face. So the master was out for some hunting sport and watching him would be more than instructive. Even the Viscount could learn from Dracula.

"May I ask what method you will be using?"

The Count took another sip of the blood in his glass his blue eyes shining with cruel merriment.

"Oh, as a first step I sent her a present yesterday. And as I called in some favours it should have been delivered by now."

--O--

"…and then I told him: either you let me fly over there this instant or I'm going to quit and you have to find a new idiot who is doing my job. This worked. I guess my boss values me too much to let me go, wedding or not."

Crossing her legs Maeve O'Brian went to grab another cookie. She had arrived only one hour ago from Glasgow and was now sitting in Cassandra's living room having tea with her fiancées sister. The two women enjoyed some time alone, the younger sisters were out riding, the parents in town and Damien still at work.

It had been a bit of surprise for Cassie when her soon-to-be sister-in-law just showed up. After she had told her on Friday evening that she could not come to the party because her boss without prior notice had other ideas, they had not called each other both ladies being too occupied to find the time.

And now five days later the woman had suddenly been standing at the front door, a taxi making its way off the property. However the oldest Miss Graham would not have been herself if she had not told the butler to take care of Maeve's luggage before she rang for some tea and biscuits so they could sit down and chat till Cassandra's duties would demand attention once more.

"But that's enough now. Tell me more about the party and especially about that mysterious Romanian. I'm so disappointed that I was not able to meet him. I want to know every detail do you hear?" Smoothing back her chestnut coloured tresses Miss O'Brian grinned at the other female.

So Cassandra told her about the weekend and the Count, from the moment she was introduced to him, the hand kiss and their waltz to their goodbye on Sunday when he had bowed low thanking her for a lovely time. Nothing was left out, not even the scene in the study. Her friend wasn't a tattletale the story would not reach the wrong ears.

"Oh this is priceless. Confronting you with "Amanda Quick". You really did put your foot in your mouth with this. Light reading…hah!"

Cassie refilled the teacups.

"How should I have known that Stephanie would take the book out of the room and then run into Count Dragulia of all people. I'm not yet able to look into the future."

"Yes well you are right with that." Damian's fiancée agreed. "But I have to say that I would have given Steph an ear full. If I know you, you just told her not to do it again."

When Cassandra did not answer Maeve rolled her eyes.

"Really you are too soft with that girl. You always let her get away with everything."

"Please, not that topic again. You know that I love her too much to be angry for a longer time with her. And it isn't true that…Yes, come in!" Both women turned to the door where someone had knocked. Upon Cassie's call Mrs. Jenkins entered the parlour carrying a brown package.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Miss but this was delivered for you only now." She handed the parcel over before exiting the room again.

Setting it down on the coffee table Cassandra regarded the package inquisitively. It was quite heavy and searching for a sender proved to be futile. Only her address adorned the brown surface written in a neat spidery script. Not even a postmark could be seen.

"What are you waiting for? Open it. It won't bite you." Maeves impatience shone through her voice. A bit wary the parcels receiver produced a pair of scissors out of a drawer and began to cut off the strings that held the whole thing together. After those had fallen the women opened the lids and peered inside together.

What they saw made them gasp. A rosewood chest with dainty carvings in a floral design appeared. Four hands helped the box out of the carton and in the afternoon light the full beauty of the design was breathtaking.

"Whoever sent you this seems to like you Cass. Is there really no word of the dispatcher?" Mave was gazing at the chest in wonder while her question got Cassandra to focus on the brown paper package once more and notice a letter lying on the bottom of it.

"Look. The sender left a word or two." With a quick cut of the scissors she opened the white envelope and withdrew a single sheet of expensive paper covered in the same script that her address had been written in. But when she began to read all colour left her features.

"_My dear Miss Graham!_

_As we did not find the time to resume our conversation I now use this way of dialogue to continue were we were interrupted._

_I think __I'm not mistaken when I recall that you asked me if I could provide a recommendation of books about a certain topic a woman of your upbringing should have read. Indeed I'm able to oblige you in this matter and it is with great pleasure that I do so since it is always a delight to encounter someone who likes to indulge into the written word as much as I do._

_I took the liberty of sending you a set of books that I found not only to be very interesting to read but also __vastly inspiring. They, as well as the chest they come with, are a gift for an exceptionally enchanting woman._

_I wish you a pleasant __reading and I'm most eager to know how you liked the authors work. Letters addressed to the Hotel Ritz in Paris will reach me._

_Kind regards-_

_Count V.D._

"Well you have to admit he has style." Maeve had been reading the note over the shoulder of Cass who was pale as death.

"I thought he had forgotten. Or at least was polite enough not to mention it anymore." Staring at the letter she sank down on a chair.

"I shiver to think about the books he sent me."

"Well there's only one way to find out. Open the box." Cassandra's friend smiled at her encouragingly and after a minute of pondering the blonde woman took the rosewood chest, slowly opening the lid.

The first thing that met their eyes was a single cherry blossom lying on dark blue velvet which got Cassie to loose the little colour, that had just started to return to her face, yet again.

Damien's fiancée noticed it.

"You may tell me the meaning of this later. But now I want to know what lies below the cover." Carefully Maeve removed the flower and the velvet and a book appeared; a thin leather bound tome without a name of its title or author on it. Three other ones followed then the chest was empty.

"Strange. Which books do not have a title? Maybe it's written inside." Upon the urging of her friend Cassandra took one of the volumes, opening it, the smell of the paper filling their noses. And really, there, black on yellowed pages, was the wanted information displayed.

The blood that had left her cheeks before returned full force now the blush making her face glow while she read the words again. She could not believe he had sent her this and in the original language, too. How he even had found out that she knew French was beyond her. Behind her Maeve was shaking with laughter.

"I repeat the man has style. An old edition of _« Les Liaisons dangereuses » _by Choderlos de Laclos. Cassie you are one lucky girl. Oh come on you don't need to get red. I wish Damien would send me gifts like this."

While her friend was excited Cassandra stared perplexed at the things on the table asking herself if she had done anything that could have been misinterpreted by the Count. Her eyes fell on the cherry blossom and without thinking she softly grasped it to look at it closely when Maeve's voice drew her back to the present.

"What does it mean in Flower Language?"

With a sigh Cassie closed her eyes brazing herself for the amusement that was inevitably to come.

"Education. A single cherry blossom means education."

* * *

I'm so sorry. I wanted to have his chapter up much earlier but university got into the way. I promise the next one won't need that long.

But here it is. Number six. I know it isn't one of those action and very funny chapters but it is essential for the further progress of the tale. And it has Flower Language in it. And a new male vampire. Actually Bastide will play a bigger role in this story. We will see more of him, much more. I know he just showed up and all but I'm really interested to know how you like him.

And of course there's the Counts little present for Cassie. An old edition of "Dangerous Liaisons" in its original language, French. Let's see what she is making out of it. At the moment she is quite mortified, hehe.

Btw: The piece Cassie is playing on the piano when the Count and Bastide are watching is the 3rd movement of Brahms' Piano Concerto Op. 15 No.1 in d minor you can find the link in my bio just scroll to the bottom of it.

**A big thank you ****(as always) to those who have reviewed. I can't say how much I love to read your opinions about LW.**

Violetrose18: Thank you very much especially for you encouragement. This pulls my spirits and helps me to go on. Here is the next chapter. I hope you like it.

ForeverACharmedOne: Well I actually was not able to burn the books because I would have failed my exams if I did. And I didn't update as fast as I wanted to. Well…but here is the recommendation you asked for. Like it? Talk to you later. :)

CherryBlossomKitty x: Thank you very much. I hope you are still interested because here is the next chapter.

Remember: What would I do without you? I really don't want to think about it. Thank you for always being there no matter at what hour. I miss you greatly and hope we can talk soon. Big hug to you. –S

Charcoal: Thank you very much. It is always nice to know that someone likes that story. I look forward to reading your opinion about this chapter.

NotAfraidToLive: Noooo. Please don't die! Jk. XD Thank you for your review. Here is the update and I hope you like it, too.

Please tell me what you think about this chapter. Reviews are essential for my daily happiness. XD

See you soon (hopefully) at the next update!

-Roux


	8. Chapter 7: Written words

**Chapter VII**

_**Written words**_

* * *

"**You never know a woman until you have a letter from her"**

_Ada Leverson_

* * *

The thin nib of a fountain pen scratched almost inaudibly over expensive paper, creating lines of dark blue. Spreading over the creamy surface, the precise but feminine scripture provided the answer to the note lying next to the writer's still left hand.

Its right twin moved fluidly, tying letter on letter till finally the last sentence was formed. Then the woman in front of her desk leaned back to regard her work while outside the signs of the beginning dawn could be seen. Hesitant yet relentless, the sun sent her first rays peering over the horizon and a soft golden light illuminated the study of Cassandra Graham.

She had needed the whole night to compose the response to the Count's message, the disposed sheets in her waste basket telling of the difficulties she had come across on her way. Six and a half hours. Never before did she have such troubles to find words. But now, at last, the product of her nocturnal activities could be signed and sent away. Satisfied she reached for an envelope.

* * *

_Dear Count,_

_Please allow me to thank you profusely for a gift that is not only extraordinary but also more than generous and will make a fine addition to our library._

_Of course I had heard of de Laclos Magnus Opum before but I have to admit I never thought about reading or even possessing it. A grave mistake on my part it seems and I'm grateful that you brought this piece of literature to my attention. It is undeniably interesting even if I have only read the first few pages until now._

_Indeed I'm fond of getting lost in a book but my time for such indulgences is limited and so I'm not exactly able to tell you my whole opinion yet. Nevertheless you will be informed of it the moment I finish the tale. _

_For that reason I also have not been subjected to the inspiring effect you mentioned. Maybe this will come later. At the moment most of my imagination is needed to find new hiding places for the books and having encountered my sisters I think you might know why. It is after all because of my youngest that we have started this discussion. However I enjoy resuming where we left off although I wasn't expecting we might come back to the topic._

_In addition and if it's not too bold I'd like to enquire about the source that told you about me being familiar with the French language. I confess I was a bit surprised when I saw that the books were written in de Laclos mother tongue._

_Furthermore I want to return the favour you bestowed on me. Yet I don't seem to find a proper way to do this. So please let me know if there is anything I can for you._

_Sincere regards_

_C.Graham_

* * *

--O--

French baroque music weaved its lithe path through the air entwining with the glow of a dozen candles, creating a decadent background for the creature that moved across the room. Expensive black leather shoes paced leisurely back and forth, the noise swallowed by the lush carpet as Dracula studied the letter that had been delivered just some minutes ago.

It dated back to the day before yesterday. Miss Graham obviously used connections similar to his, her part of the correspondence arriving earlier in Paris than the usual mail he got from the States. While unforeseen this would work very much to his advantage. The more she would write the more he would find out about her.

Sinuous lips curled in malicious amusement when he read her last few sentences. Oh he had an idea how she could thank him though he would have to exercise patience first. A woman like Cassandra could not be seduced in haste. Similar to a good wine - there was a certain ceremony to be followed.

From the opening of the bottle to the first taste, time was needed yet every step in the progress a gratification in itself till the velvet liquid finally touched the tongue. This one sip indicated the beginning of the highest pleasure that would reach its peak through each single drop, finding its release in the last swallow.

Nevertheless, with Cassandra, he had to be careful not to overdo it. Although neat and precise, her writing spoke of circumspection. The woman sounded not only tired but wary and definitely not as eloquent as he was used from her.

The idea occurred to him that maybe she wasn't used to that much attention from the male species. Yet, this was hard to imagine. Men, real men, would see Cassie Graham as a woman ready for seduction, her whole character presenting a challenge that was hard to resist. And because of her qualities many would not leave it at seduction. So why, if he read between the lines correctly, was she so anxious? If he was honest he had hoped for a bit more.

The clock chimed the hour and the letter was put aside. His cloak swirling dramatically when he threw it over his shoulders the Count left the room. He would think about this later. Now he had an appointment. A brunette one.

* * *

_My dear Miss Graham,_

_I was delighted to get your answer and so fast, too. It's a pity your opinion about "Les Liaisons" has not progressed thus far but I'm able to wait so take your time. May I inquire if you found an adequate place of concealment for the volumes? But maybe a cranny as this won't even be needed. A locked door should do the trick, too, I think._

_How did I know that you s__poke French as a second mother tongue? Why, Miss Graham, a little bird told me and before you ask, no, I won't tell you the name. I never give my informants away._

_You asked me how to return the favour. I assure you, there is no need. Knowing that you find pleasure in my gift is a sufficient reward. Let us not speak further about this._

_Tell me, how is your family? Yesterday I attended the performance of a string quartet and had to remember the delightful concerts I had the honour to watch at Graham Manor. Tonight I'm invited to a "Melodic Evening" where the reigning opera diva will grace the audience with her abilities. May I ask if you were taught the baroque singing technique?_

_V.D._

* * *

The dust flying through the air made him cough although he did not need to breath for 70 years now. So long a time since his master had turned him. And it was by order of this master that he now was buried in the archive of a French tabloid up to his neck in old articles looking for information about a certain female and her family. Mikhail opened the next folder.

* * *

_Dear Count,_

_My family is well and my sisters send their greetings. They ask when you will visit us again. Oh and I know now about that little bird you mentioned although she is not so little anymore. Theresa confessed that she might have revealed my bilingual upbringing during your stay. I have to commend you on this Sir as my sister rarely talks while dancing she is a bit afraid of doing a wrong step. However, I think you are aware of that already?_

_Paris is a wonderful city that provides much entertainment especially of the musical variety. To answer your question, no, I don't do the baroque songs but I like to listen to them very much, vocal and instrumental. They come with a certain feeling that most of the modern songs lack and the French capital is full of people who perform those old pieces. Was the singing of Angélique Mariveux to your liking? I hear that she has a full voice with a beautiful coloratura. My grandfather enjoys her talent very much. He is an old friend of Mademoiselle Mariveux's uncle who has a small wine shop in a small side alley near the Rue de Faubourg that sells an excellent Zinfandel and has supplied our family with some of its products for years now._

_It might interest you that I finished the first of the books yesterday, which was for that matter accompanied by a glass of that aforementioned Zinfandel. I hope I'll be able to start the second one tomorrow. Alas I don't have the time to resume my reading tonight as the Westhams are giving their annual summer ball. My sisters are already teasing me that if I don't get ready at this instant I'll have to go dressed in trousers._

_This is the reason why I now close my letter, looking forward to your response._

_Kind regards_

_C. Graham_

* * *

The cool satin of his black evening gown covering his otherwise naked skin the Count sat in an armchair studying the latest addition to his correspondence with Cassandra. Although still a bit superficial in some phrases it was definitely an improvement to her first answer.

So she was reading the epistolary novel, he had feared a bit that she wouldn't. But if she had already finished the first book, it was clear that she was interested, which was not only a good start but also a solid base that would help him with his further steps.

Just when his mind was occupied with composing a reply a small hand crept over his shoulder under the dressing gown to caress him languidly. Obviously his nightly entertainment had awakened.

Without turning his head he laid the letter down on a small side table before he caught her hand with his, playing with the slim fingers.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"The music woke me. It's interesting to hear ones voice at three o'clock in the morning. One notices the mistakes more."

Lully's "Isis" still playing in his ear Dracula had to smirk when she came to stand in front of him wearing nothing but his white shirt he had discarded on the bedroom floor some hours ago. The buttons weren't done and so his eyes had unlimited access to her full breasts and the dark triangle between her legs.

"Not very modest, are we?" Amused he noticed how she made a grimace.

"Not in this regard. But when you wake up and the man you had fabulous sex with just a short while ago is not in bed with you but sitting in the living room reading a letter…well then, no, I'm not too modest."

Her bluntness struck a bit of a wrong cord within. Suddenly he had to think that Miss Graham would have never spoken like this, a contemplation he banished immediately to the back of his mind. At the moment there were other things to consider, least of all Cassandra's manners. Dracula's smile became feral when he let go of the woman's fingers to softly caress her thigh.

"Don't worry your pretty little head off. And now," his eyes raked up her naked figure. "…that I've woken you…what should we do?" Upon that question her face began to glow.

"I might have an idea." His raised eyebrows were the only reaction she got. Carefully she sank to her knees in front of him, one of her hands opening the tie that held the dressing gown together.

He still watched her when she at last broke their eye contact to lower her head. Despite the pleasure she was giving he never let her out of his gaze. He could see she was startled when after some minutes he grasped her by the shoulders to pull her up and while growling the words, "Enough _prelude_. Let's get to the main theme." drew her down on his lap.

Her head fell back, her hips bucked when they moved. His hand found the back of her head and Dracula buried his fingers into her hair despite the blonde strands being almost too short for this and his never closing mind decided that this would be the last time Angélique Mariveux would share his bed.

* * *

_The picture that was lying on the coffee table was showing her and yet it wasn't. The curls on her head were a surprise to the viewer who only new that particular mane to be sleek and smooth. Perhaps puberty had made short process of those big locks that framed a face more similar to her youngest sister than it could be seen today. Maybe it was the age. Thirteen years old, dressed all in black, her mimic stony and without a tear Cassandra Graham stood at the funeral of her grandmother._

* * *

Their letters were frequent and the Count sometimes caught himself waiting for her part of the conversation which within time had become more playful a lighter tone replacing the superficial one and he detected that this particular female possessed a certain kind of humour to which at some occasions he did not know how to respond to.

* * *

_Miss Graham,_

_never mind the polite phrases at the beginning of a letter. You knew it, didn't you? You knew that cheese seller would not only try to hit on me but that he was older than bituminous coal and that he also reeks like he does not sell cheese but fish from the era of Methusalem!_

"_Middle aged and a bit eccentric….!" Indeed. Remind me not to trust your judgement of cheese sellers anymore!" (...)_

_--O--_

_Dear Count,_

_(…) I'm absolutely sorry about your experience with Monsieur Agur. Yet I assure you I did neither know about his sexual orientation nor his smell. I should have considered that he has aged since I have last seen him and I apologize for not thinking about this. But I have to ask: Isn't the Gouda superb? (…)_

_--O--_

_My dear Miss Graham,_

_(…) not knowing about this? You should know better than to try to lie to me. You knew or at least had a suspicion. But never fear the revenge will be mine. (…)_

* * *

The topics ranged from literature to music from the weather over foreign cities to the progress of his estate. They by no means spoke about politics and rarely about her family and they never touched the picture of his or her past. Dracula knew more about the last one by the information Mikhail had gathered for him.

* * *

_The black and white press photograph was a bit more than a year old showing the sisters at a concert conducted by Maestro Dumont. It was taken from the side, displaying only the profiles as each of the ladies leaned forward at another angle to listen. The resemblance between them from that point of view was astonishing._

* * *

Of course they talked about the "Liaisons". But as precise and to the point as his questions were, her answers were as hesitant. She liked the books that she had told him but even this opinion he had to worm out of her. It seemed to him that she would have preferred to leave it at that and change the subject. Yet his natural cruelty did not let her get away with it. Dracula asked and suggested and was able to notice that she got more comfortable with his enquiries, which were not even of a sexual kind. However Cassandra appeared to still have some difficulties with the matter of the books and when he wanted to know what Madam de Tourvel should have done in her opinion, giving way to Valmonts doings as she did, or maybe something else, Miss Graham was not able to respond.

* * *

The six year old article was as vulgar as it was disturbing. Mikhail had found it in the files of an American gossip rag, explaining that the issue with the piece in it had never made its way onto the market having been stopped just a day before the delivering date. When Dracula read the content he knew why Richard Graham might have paid to never have this published.

* * *

_Oldest Graham daughter trying to commit sucicide?_

_-Youngest sister saw everything.-_

_Cassandra Graham (20) daughter of real property tycoon Richard Graham was delivered Monday night to North Shore University Hospital with a severe case of blood loss. Eye witnesses claim that Miss Graham was unconscious having a wound on her left arm which "the medics tried to cover up in vain." and that she was brought to an OR with the utmost hurry._

_In another ambulance was her youngest sister, Stephanie (6) who quite assumedly witnessed what happened to Miss Graham and was more than distraught of the events. A woman who was waiting at the casualty department to have her turn told "People of America":_

"_They came in running, first the medics with the young woman on that stretcher. She was pale and her arm…her left one I mean it had a bandage on it but it was not holding the blood anymore it was already leaping through. And then there was that other woman a medic, too and she had that screaming little girl in her arms which was crying and yelling for her sister on the stretcher. I thought she was begging that the older would not die and could not be calmed down till a doctor injected something and was brought away. And then the medics just stood there looking at each other shaking their heads (…)"_

_Obviously whatever happened disturbed not only Stephanie Graham but also those that see blood, death and sorrow everyday and no doubt they all ask themselves the same question: Why would a young woman who has everything, a loving family, a sweet boyfriend (PoA reported) and not to forget money try to kill herself? _

_Because despite the statement of Richard Graham's PR manager what person could be dumb enough to believe in a kitchen accident of a woman who has two cooks at her beck and call?_

_LGw/Poa_

* * *

_Miss Graham,_

_(…) don't mind the response to my question about Madam de Tourvel. Take your time to think about it and tell me when you have found an answer. You might be able to do this in person as this is my last letter from Paris. Business matters demand that I visit the States for a longer period and I have the pleasure to inform you that I'll call on you soon. (…)_

* * *

Hello everbody! Yes I know I promised I'd update soon but well…real life interfered. What else is new?

As always you'll find the links for the music in my bio. There are two music pieces, the first when Dracula reads Cassies first letter, the second when he is sitting in the living room at night.

That chapter is one of my favourites I have to admit because it allows a teeny-tiny peek on the other side of Cassandra. But only a small one. Do you like the chapter, too? I'd be very happy indeed if you would tell me.

A great thank you goes to Nienna Silmarwen who betaed that chapter. I have a beta! Yay! Although I really pity her to have to read through my grammar I'm very excited that now someone is going to check my work and she is really good at this. As in really really REALLY good. The small things she suggested changed this chapter for the better and I look forward to work with her on the rest of the story.

Many other BIG thank yous to those who reviewed. This chapter broke a record: 9 reviews, not counting Charcoal who reviewed twice. Then it would be 10 reviews. I was making googly eyes when I saw that number. Folks I love you. Don't stop reviewing! And to those who review anonymously…yes I know it's faster and everything but maybe you want to think about leaving me your email-address. Then I could thank you and answer the questions in the reviews much sooner and you would not have to wait for the next update to read my little message to you.

But on to the wall of honour now:

ForeverACharmedOne: Hehe, who doesn't like the descriptions of Dracula. I myself am a HUGE fan of them. So…I updated. It's your turn again!

Charcoal: OMG!! Twice as in…two times! I hope some of your questions were answered in this chapter. If you want to know more about Cassie's scar you'll have to read further….much further. Yes I'm evil! Bastide as James Bond? Now that's a brilliant idea. You are right he does sound like he is on a mission. Well he is Dracula's second in command and so he has to report to his master. And he will play a big role later. He is going to be whisper whisper.

Nienna Silmarwen: THANK YOU. For the review(s), for your ideas, for working with me,…just thank you. Ttyl.

v: Thank you very much for the review. I hope you like this chapter.

Kairi's-twin/Alanna: Did your imagination imagine this? Or is it still running wild? I'd love to know. There are some excellent websites about the language of flowers and I stumbled (not so accidentally I admit) upon them. I love the grandparents, too, they provide some comic and even I have to laugh whenever I think about the scenes with them.

Remember: sigh If I write everything that comes to my mind in here it would not only be long but I'd need the whole night. If that's enough…you'll get a letter soon I think. So for now just a huge thank you for being there. Love ya!

CherryBlossomKitty x: Shall I tell you how much I prefer a short review to no review. Every review, no matter how long, has me grinning all day to the point of being giddy. Reviews are exactly my kind of drug! Care to be my dealer?

twilightalcoholic92: As I told you in my answer: Yes you did. And I can't get enough of it.

NotAfraidToLive: Here's the update. Tell me how you liked it?

May I ask you to press that sweet, little, absolute adorable and overall very cute, pale blue button?

See you all later (I hope)!

-Roux


	9. Chapter 8: An afternoon with Tess

**Chapter VIII**

_**An afternoon with Tess**_

* * *

"**Chocolate, men, coffee-some things are better rich."**

_Anonymous_

* * *

It was a Mercedes this time, a sleek SLR as silver as Stephanie's eyes and as fast as Raphaela's wit. His body resting on red and black leather Dracula steered the car onto the Graham property. Yet, today there was no butler to drive over. There was no one. The grounds looked deserted.

With furrowed brows he stopped in front of the entry and got out, the summer-heat hitting him like a wall after the cool air-conditioned interior of the car. Puzzled he looked around, yet the only living being in his close surroundings seemed to be the little blackbird jubilating in a nearby tree.

Only when he had taken the stairs to the entrance he heard it through the slightly ajar door. Soft music could be made out from within coming from the direction of the other end of the building. Curiously he followed the sound of an accordion, venturing through the foyer without seeing anyone resembling a servant. After a short walk through various hallways the song became louder...as well as the heartbeat of a person. When he turned another corner the Count had to force himself not to bark out in laughter.

Theresa was standing in a big kitchen, an apron around her body, brown curls topped by a chef's hat. In her arms rested a bowl while the girl was occupied stirring whatever was in there, her feet moving in small steps to the music, a rather fast waltz. She looked adorable. A pity he had to interrupt the girl.

"Reliving our dance Miss Tess? I'm honoured!" Raising his voice over the song he addressed her.

The reaction he got was sudden and violent. With a shriek she turned to the door, the bowl slipping from her hold. Catching it just in time she stared at his grinning self. Only after some more seconds was she able to shake herself out of her astonishment and grasped a remote to turn down the volume.

"Gracious, Count. Can't you just greet me like normal people do? You'd be able to give a grown man a heart attack the way you enter a room."

Still smirking he approached her.

"I'm sorry to have startled you. I was actually looking for your father I wanted to return some papers to him. Is he home?"

Tess shook her head.

"No. I'm the only one home. The servants have the day off and my sisters are God-knows-where. Mother and father are out with the yacht. But why don't you take a seat?" She motioned to a large table to her right.

Dracula almost wanted to decline, when his eyes fell on the contents of the bowl.

"Is this chocolate?"

Now it was her turn to grin and she did so with pleasure. "Yes it is. I'm making pralines. So if you grab a chair and stay out of my way I might be inclined to let you taste my creations."

"Miss Theresa some day you'll break your neck if you continue to speak to grown-up people like that." Nonetheless he made his way over to the table and sat down. The teenager had the audacity to wink at him.

"Maybe. But as no one has killed me yet or something else displeasing I'll keep on talking."

She had no idea how close she came to the truth. Normally he wouldn't have thought twice about putting someone who addressed him in an impolite way into his or her proper place. However with Tess it was more of a pleasant banter he enjoyed. Albeit a bit cheeky she never crossed the invisible line to really make him angry and so he made himself comfortable expecting some amusing minutes with the sixteen-year old.

"Ah, the carelessness of the youth. But tell me why is it that all birds have flown out only you remaining here to 'hold the fort' on this fine Tuesday?"

Carrying on with her stirring she leaned against a counter. "My brothers' wedding was last Saturday. So after all the cleaning up was done Cassie decided to give us all a break. As for me being here: Well tomorrow is some kind of charity bazaar where cakes and such things are sold. And since I'm the only one of my sisters who is able to make a pudding without setting the whole house on fire I was given the task of preparing some sweets. Besides I like doing this, especially when I have the kitchen all to myself and no one is telling me what to do and 'for heavens sake be careful'."

She rolled her eyes, remembering the last time she had taken over the stove and Mrs. Jen had jumped around her like Rumpelstiltskin around its fire in her worry.

Then she tilted her head and sent him a look that dithered between sly and amusing.

"The papers are not the only reason why you are here, aren't they? After all we live in the century of faxes and email so you could have sent them to papa with ease before today."

The Count raised brows in feigned astonishment.

"Why else should I have come beside my business with your father?"

"I think that my oldest sister might be your motivation to show up personally. Can we now please cease with the playing around and you just ask me what you want to know about Cassie? After all you where the one that requested my help and called me your informant." And with a devious smile she added: "However I can't promise you that I'll answer every one of your questions. Blood is thicker than water."

Theresa's reward was a hearty laughter from the Count who just remembered what he had already noted during their dance. The girl had spunk.

"How could I refuse such a charming offer? So, how is Miss Graham these days?"

Tess began to talk. She told him how Cassandra had organized the wedding and had even forgone sleeping for two nights because some problems that no one had planned on had occurred. "Your letters helped her to relax a bit. Whenever one came she would give herself some free time to read it. However I don't know when she found the time to answer them."

"Your sister seems to have the habit of getting stressed out over party preparations. I noticed in June how tired she sometimes looked."

The girl scoffed: "Sometimes? Where have your eyes been? Fact is Cassie is a perfectionist when it comes to these things and because she is the one who has more experience in these matters than the bride she was put in charge of the wedding preparations. But I know Cass is just as glad as I am that everything is over now and the next big festivity she has to plan is in January. So she should have enough time for some entertainment." Here Theresa sent her guest a significant look while shaping small balls out of the chocolate.

The Count placed his hands on his thighs and leaned back.

"I know a more than broad hint when I hear one. Don't fear, after all I've not come here to meet your sister only in passing. Yet if I remember correctly there are two more appointments in her social calendar for the next time. She told me in one of her letters that there will be a charity bazaar and some kind of celebration. It wouldn't be the same market you are making this pralines for, would it?"

"Yes it is. The sweets will be sold tomorrow and the money is given to the charity organization where Cassie is one of three heads. Another thing she does." Theresa sighed. "Anyways, the day after tomorrow the money is counted and afterwards in the evening there is the traditional "social event" at the Hughes' house where at a press conference is held and the total amount of the donations from the last year will be undisclosed. Then the money is given away and everyone has a great time at the following cocktail party. Last year they also had some belly dancers performing at midnight. But that should be the only things Cass has to do in the next few weeks." she added.

Which would work perfectly to his advantage. Dracula was already planning how to best shower attention on Cassandra without making her suspicious.

"Tell me what your sister likes to do in her free-time, please."

During their talking Tess had finished a suitable amount of little round chocolate balls and now made to decorate them while answering.

"Singing. Writing letters. Oh and reading of course. She liked the books you sent although she would not say so. But I saw her reading them despite the short amount of time she had." She glanced up from her work to grin at him. "Nice idea, Count. I've never seen her so riled up for years about such a simple thing as a package. You know what you are doing, I give you that."

He answered her smirk with one of his own. "Did you ever doubt that? Shame on you! Nevertheless the things you mentioned can't be everything. I suspect Miss Grahams' interests also include opera and ballet. And piano music, I guess?"

Tess looked sheepish. How could she have forgotten that? A careless gesture of his hand waved her awkwardness away.

"You look at her with the eyes of a sister Miss Theresa. Yet in this situation it's the wrong kind of eyes."

The pralines where finished and put down on the other end of the table he was sitting on. Then the girl took a saucer on which she placed four of the little chocolate pieces, one of each kind she had made, and gave it to him.

"Here you are. Tell me which one you like best?" she motioned for him to go ahead and taste them.

Distracted for the moment he picked up the first, chewing it thoughtfully before swallowing. The teenager had done a good job, he thought after he had eaten the other three. She was still standing in front of him, a bit nervous and with curious brown eyes awaiting his opinion.

"Delicious. If you ever need a job Miss Tess I can offer you a place in my kitchen. To answer your question I liked the second one best. But that might also be because I'm partial to white chocolate."

The curiosity in her eyes changed into astonishment.

"White chocolate is your favourite?" He nodded. "That's interesting. Very interesting." Her gaze swept over his dark hair, the black shirt and his anthracite suit.

"Cassie prefers dark chocolate. The more cacao the better." With that she turned back to the counter and began to work on a cake.

They continued to talk for three more hours. Not only about Cassandra of whom he now, among other things, knew that she was afraid of horses but liked cats, preferred Mozart to Haydn and Schumann to Schubert and that she liked flowers but not a special one in a particular.

They also brushed the topics of the history of the building, his travels, the girls' paternal grandmother and now they were speaking about the siblings' names. What brought it on was his inquiry about Amelia's unusual nickname which Theresa explained with the other girls' place of birth.

"Nef was born in Cairo. That's why her full name is Amelia Elizabeth Graham. My mother liked to read the books of Elizabeth Peter's who play in Egypt and whose heroine is also called Amelia. She thought it fitting for her second daughter born down there to be named like this. For us she has always been Nef. I don't know who came up with it. But it stuck."

How exceptional. Dracula knew that Cordelia liked to travel and that this had been one of the reasons why she gave concerts rather then play in whole operas. But to take a trip to Egypt while being high-pregnant sounded rather risky to him. When he told Theresa she just shrugged.

"Mum accompanied father on his business trips. She used to do this while pregnant with all four of us, my three older sisters and I, because she wasn't able to work. We were all born in different countries, including Steph, she was born here in this house. Damien and Cass were born in Paris because my mother was still studying opera singing there at that time. After the birth of the two of them she resumed her lessons, but only after some weeks; this proved to be difficult for her. When she had us younger girls she took a break from her engagement and then she worked independently. Concerts, CDs, then a short break when Stephanie arrived, and then more concerts and more CDs."

Cordelia must have been out of her mind, the Count thought. If he had been Richard he would have tied his wife down. What utter madness to travel so extensively with babies and toddlers, not to mention the two older children.

"Mother had three nanny's with her for help I was told. It couldn't have been that hard for her, she mostly stayed in the hotel while father was out on his meetings. Cass and Dami were cared for by gran Bea at the time."

"What, or whom, are your two oldest siblings named after?"

"Damien after the diamonds my grandfather gave my mother for the wedding and of course papa, Damien Richard. And Cassie after one of the "fingers" of the Grecian peninsula Chalkidiki, where my parents had their belated honeymoon, and after my maternal grandmother, Cassandra Beatrice."

Without encouragement she also told him the origins of her other sister's names. Raphie had been baptized Raphaela Ines after the artist Raphael and a form of Agnes, the protector of Rome where the girl had been born. Grace Katerinas birthplace had been London, her name chosen by her father after seeing a performance of the Russian Ballett. Tess herself had done her first cry in Vienna and bore the swapped and altered name of the great empress Maria Theresia, the reason why Raph's nickname for her was Queeny.

Only Stephanie Alexandra's names had been selected by their meaning, "crown" and "defender of men". She had been the last child of Richard and Cordelia, the crown of their love. The middle-name was picked out by Damien who had secretly wished for a brother to aid him against the girls.

It was astounding how some of the names fit the characters and abilities of their bearers. The parents obviously had displayed some talent in naming their children. Filing the huge amount of information away in a corner of his head the Count noticed something.

"Do you know that your oldest and your youngest sister share a name?"

Tess' knitted brows told him otherwise.

"You are familiar with of Cassandra of Troy of course and the rather mysterious antique author Lycophron wrote a work called "Alexandra" about this woman. He is only known through this work and so Cassandra of Troy is also called Alexandra."

The girl looked at him as if she'd seen a ghost and he could feel her mind chewing on those facts. Then, uttering a shaky laugh, she turned back to her last cake and Dracula changed the topic.

Only after the final pastry was done and Tess was about to clean up did they get back to the matter of Cass.

"Let me give you some advice, Count. ", she said "If you really want to get to know my sister just look what she is doing. You'll learn the most about Cassie if you watch her."

"What made you think that I did not already do that and also intend to continue in the future?" Dracula couldn't help but tease her and Theresa grimaced.

"Alright, I'll refrain from giving you any more recommendations. See how you'll manage without me." Faking a pout she put her baking utensils away when he tried to appease her.

"Come now Miss Tess, we both know that…" he trailed off as if listening to something. "Ah, we seem to have a visitor." The faint sound of a car door slamming met their ears. Then silence. After some uneventful listening they resumed their conversation talking quietly when suddenly footsteps were reverberating from the hallway outside the kitchen. Wet feet were slapping on Mrs. Jenkins well-cleaned tiles.

Then, in a flurry, Nefer entered the room.

Clad only in a soaked orange silk bra and matching panties, her other clothes hanging over her arm she made her way over to a wide-eyed Tess.

"Bloody hell is that a heat out there. Thank God we have a swimming pool! I surely needed that dip."

Her attempts to hug her sister brought said sibling back to her senses.

"Stay away from me Nef. You are dripping wet and I don't want you to share the water with me. And for your information: we have a guest." She motioned to the table where Dracula had stood and the other girl who apparently had not seen the Count until now turned around.

In the last few seconds from when she came in to when she finally acknowledged him he'd had ample opportunity to observe her and he had to admit he liked what he saw. Her skin showing a nice tan, not an ounce of fat on her body she looked good enough to eat. When she twirled to address him he was unable to fight the urge to let his gaze travel from the small feet and slim legs over her flat stomach up to her face. But when his eyes met hers it occurred to him that this was the YOUNGER sister of the woman he wanted seduce and he silently reprimanded himself for being so obvious in his scrutinizing.

Yet the object of this examination did not seem to be angry. To a greater degree she appeared to be pleased, a small smile grazing her mouth and the brown pupils were clearly asking him if she met his approval.

He raised an eyebrow in response, questioning her motives. Then he bowed slightly not leaving her out of his sight.

"Miss Amelia."

Her smile widened.

"Count. How nice of you to visit us again. Please forgive my lack of attire. The water was too tantalizing. Will you be staying longer in the area?"

Straightening he tried hard to not let his gaze wander again and was proud he succeeded.

"Don't worry Miss Amelia. I understand. Although I'm afraid I have to tell you that the heat will probably hang about a bit longer. Tomorrow is the first of August after all. And I'll be staying for as long as I need for my business to be finished." The double meaning of his last words was not lost on Tess and she began to say something when Nefer interrupted her with a squeal.

"Good Lord. Is that a Király?"

With wide eyes she stared at the lapel of his suit jacket where a small, almost invisible black sign was stitched in, the trademark of the Hungarian designer. As well as a layman could identify an Armani or Boss suit, those who were familiar with Király recognized his works in an instant. Dracula had been provided for years by the man not only with business suits but also with tuxedos and tails. Surprised that the female in front of him knew the products of his "tailor", his answer got to be more detailed than he had intended to.

"Yes it is. It has been finished just before my departure in Paris and Király did the last fitting himself. There should have been two suits but as he and I were in a bit of hurry the other one still needs some finishing touches. Alas this will have to wait till I'm back at Budapest. I can't expect from the man to always journey after me."

"I could do the final fittings," Amelia blurted out while a blush crept over her face. Abruptly the seductive woman from before was replaced by an anxious teenager.

"I mean, that is if you want me to. I know how expensive his suits are yet if it's only one final fitting almost nothing can go wrong. And I've often done this for my father and brother as well as the other junior partners." She shrugged, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Silence reigned while Tess stared at her sister with an unreadable look on her face and Dracula regarded Nefer with curiosity pondering over her offer. After five minutes of none of them talking, he answered.

"Why not? I trust your abilities and you know the worth of the piece. I'll call you then to make an appointment later?" After she had replied in the affirmative he bowed again.

"Very well. And now Ladies I have to take my leave, I have neglected my duties for too long. Miss Amelia. Miss Theresa. Thank you for that lovely afternoon."After some short curtsies and soft goodbyes from the girl's side he left his mind basking in all the information he had gotten today.

Paying attention to his retreating steps the two sisters stood in the kitchen, the younger watching the older from the corner of her eye. After she was sure he was not within hearing range anymore Theresa brought her hands on her hips and now focused entirely on Nefer.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? You know that he is interested in Cassie!"

Amelia, unfazed by the glare that was sent in her direction, threw her clothes down on a chair and went to the plates with the pralines, nicking one consisting of milk-chocolate.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist. I don't want to steal her from him if that's what you are thinking."

"No? Well I'm unconvinced. What you just displayed here is something not even I would have expected from you. You knew that he was here; after all you had to drive by his car when you wanted to park yours. The little dip into the pool was done on purpose and you better explain to me why." Tess could feel the anger bubbling inside her. Sometimes she cursed her older sisters' nerves.

Nef sighed rolling her eyes at the younger girls' irritation.

"Come on Tess. I just wanted to see his reaction nothing more. As much as I would like to have a try on him he is not for me. You know well enough I'm more interested in another man at the moment and you and I also know Cass won't approve. So if I flirt a bit with Dragulia she is first misled and secondly if she thinks she has a bit of a competition she might focus more on the Count and leave me be."

"I still think you are unfair."

"I'm sure you do. But it can't be helped. Not if I want to get more independent from my oldest sister."

--O--

Sunset that evening consisted of one great fireball that dipped the world in a wondrous light and told that the next day would be as nice as the last few had been.

Illuminated by the red glow shining through the foyer windows Amelia descended the stairs quietly, as not to alert the people in the parlour to her departure. She almost made it, having already opened the front door when Cassandra's voice held her back.

"Ah Nefer. Are you going dancing?" So she had noticed the second pair of shoes in Nef's hand. Grimacing slightly to herself the teenager turned towards her sibling regretting that she had not closed her thin trench coat.

"Yes I am. Caro is having a Salsa-party. Don't know when I'll be back."

She knew exactly when Cass got aware of what she was wearing by the subtly widening of her sisters eyes.

"I'll inform Mrs. Jenkins that you'll have breakfast later then. That's a nice dress, dear. Is it new? I have not seen it on you before."

"You couldn't. I only finished it this week." She was almost disappointed. There had to be some more of a comment. And really, Cassandra's next sentence brought the desired result.

"The colour and the cloth look very fetching on you. Yet I wonder where the rest of the dress is. Don't you think you might be cold when night falls?"

There it was, the way Cassandra subtly told her she did not like her choice of clothing. Throwing a saucy grin in her sisters' direction Amelia grasped the handle of the door again.

"I'll dance myself warm. As for the rest of the dress: I made some underwear out of it."

With a final "See you later" Nefer left and closed the door.

* * *

Hello everybody. Yes it has been a long time and I apologize. Point. Paragraph. Grin.

As it is I'm still buried in a huge pile of stress yet inspiration has flown back into the room two weeks ago and has slapped me on the cheeks. Hard. They are flaming red. And they hurt. But I have many many ideas flowing in my head and I intend to type them. I'm a bit away from the original written chapters but that doesn't matter. The ideas I have now are much better than the original ones.

Because my muse decided to wake up from her rather long nap I'm proud to tell you that the next chapter, number 9, is already finished and has already been betaed. I will have it up next week, to make up for the long waiting period. Maybe I'll upload it on Sunday…that'll depend on my mood I think. But it will be up Wednesday next week at the latest. I can tell you now: it has some Drac/Cassie scenes in it…tee hee…yes I'm evil.

A big thank you goes to Nienna who again did a great job with working through my grammar. Soooo much red, hehe.

Next big thank you to Remember who shows such an amazing patience when I whine and bounce ideas on her. I love you my dear.

And the last BIG thank you to all those who have reviewed. Today I'll make this short and just list the names, as my time is a bit limited (I still need to read two texts for university tomorrow) but in the next chapter you'll get your little personal messages again.

Just a short side note for Charcoal…your review was ripped off in the middle. Any idea what you wanted to say? Oh and I'd be delighted if I'd be able to answer your reviews as I do with those that are signed in. If you want, leave me your email-adress and you'll get a thorough answer.

So here are the names of all those who made my days. Thank you sooooooooo much.

**ForeverACharmedOne, Nienna Silmarwen, NotAfraidToLive, CherryBlossomKitty x, ****Charcoal, Kairi's-twin, Remember, shinigamiredrose, Liavah.**

As always you'll find the link for the music in my bio. Tess is listening to a song from the soundtrack of the movie "Amelie".

See you all next week!

-Roux


	10. Chapter 9: Courting Cassandra

**Chapter**** IX**

_**Courting**__** Cassandra**_

* * *

"**You can recognize the dilettantes by their gauche compliments. The experienced seducer dares to criticise."**

_Catherine Deneuve_

_(transl. by Roux) _

* * *

The sun held its promise. Fashioning fantastic patterns out of light and shadow it doused the meadow where the charity bazaar was held into a mix of swirling colours and hot summer air. The soft breeze coming from the sea was able to create only a bit of relief for the people gathering around and had it not been for the great invention of cooling bags and fans the pralines and cakes would have melted faster than they could have been sold.

In the progress of making her way between stalls and persons who were either selling or eating sweets, was Cassandra. For two hours now had she helped out where help was needed, had given instructions, greeted familiar and unfamiliar faces and was at the moment stepping around a group of loudly discussing men to have a short break. Her destination was a few chairs situated under a big beech tree that provided the women employed at this market with a chance to rest a bit secluded from the throng of people.

But only after she had directed an elderly man to the stall with the beverages was she able to sit down on a sturdy oak chair with a green cushion on its' seat, at long last getting a chance to have a good look at the bazaar. Striking her less like a market but more like a big picnic place the meadow was flowing over with laughing people, the air filled with their merry laughter and cheerful mood despite the heat.

"Good Lord, I never thought it would be so full today." A woman about her own age joined her at the seating area carrying a small infant in her arms. Cassandra's eyes lit up. She had known Anna Taylor for years now. Coming from a similar background, the two of them often had met during society gatherings and were good acquaintances. Two years ago Anna had celebrated her wedding with the son of one of the other well-off families residing on Long Island. Seven months later the newly married wife had been pregnant and after the appropriate time little Melanie had been born. The child that now sat on its mothers lap gazed at its surroundings with big brown eyes interested in everything and anything while the two grown-ups chatted.

"I'm just glad we decided to bake more than last year. If we only had produced half of it as we first wanted…it doesn't bear contemplating." Looking down fondly at the petite girl that now played with her own feet, Cassandra changed the topic.

"How old is she now?"

"Eight months and three days."

Anna caressed her daughters' dark curls that were still residing close to Melanie's head.

"And she is already sitting up?"  
Now the young mothers' features changed into a proud smile.

"Yes she is. I suspect she will walk before she is a year old. Comes from my side of the family we were all very fast in our developments." She wanted to continue to speak about her offspring when her name was called.

"And away again." Regretfully she stood up and gathered the child to her right hip. "I hate to drag her out in the sun once more. But the buggy is still in the car and Sebastian has the keys. I have no idea where he is." She shielded her eyes letting them sweep over the people hoping in vain to sight her husband.

"I could take her till you come back. I intended to stay here for a bit longer anyways, if you want I can baby-sit."

Anna sighed in relief.

"Oh thank you Cassandra. If you need anything, her bag is just behind you at the trunk I left it there when we arrived. I promise I'll hurry" Together with a small doll she brought out of her trouser pocket she handed the infant over and vanished into the crowd.

At first the small girl didn't seem to know what to make out of the situation. Here she was on the lap of an unfamiliar person who had situated her so they faced each other. Her baby-face warped into a grimace that told of her uncertainty. However it was soon replaced by a friendly expression again when that strange woman began to coo at her.

"It's alright sweetheart your mommy will be back soon and while she is away the two of us will become nice friends. What an intelligent little darling you are. Already sitting up. Ah now there's a smile." While she was fussing over Melly she did not notice the footsteps approaching from her right.

"The similarities are astounding Miss Graham. May I enquire about the father's identity?"

--O--

Dracula had watched her for quite some time now. Staying out of her way and using his powers to not be noticed by anybody who would draw attention to his presence, he had followed Theresa's advice and observed Cassandra quite thoroughly.

She was a vision of summery elegance wearing a sleeveless chiffon blouse in light purple and a white circle-skirt that flowed around her, covering her knees. A wide brimmed hat and ballerina shoes of the same colour complimented the outfit and added a touch of the fifties. The blonde hair was held back in a thick knot at the back of her neck so it couldn't disturb her while she was taking care of the charity bazaar.

When she had sat down under the beech he had wanted to move towards her but another young woman with a child had been faster. So he had waited not letting the females out of his view and after some minutes the unknown woman had stood up, left the infant with Miss Graham and went back to the bazaar.

It was an adorable picture, her and the baby and when she doted on it he remembered something else that Tess had told him the day before.

"_Oh and Count: Be careful when you go out with Cass and there are children near. You might be run over. My sister draws them on like flies."_

Well as far as he could see the older kids on the meadow where more interested in playing with each other than in the object of his thoughts but the little being on Cassandra's lap appeared to be more comfortable with her baby-sitter by each passing second and it was obvious that the woman herself loved children.

Taking the chance he advanced on her just as she looked down to the infant on her knees and addressed her.

The Counts amused voice startled Cassandra and she raised her head in confusion. As she recognized him the beaming smile that had been reserved for the baby turned softer, welcoming and a bit embarrassed.

"Good day to you Sir. That's a surprise I didn't knew you where back in the area. And I'm sorry to disappoint you but this little darling is just borrowed for a while."

He stepped next to her chair.

"Good day Miss Graham. It's a pleasure to see you."

Smirk firmly in place his azure eyes dancing with his next words he motioned to Melly.

"Not yours? I almost thought you kept something back when I visited in June. However I can't say I'm disappointed by the information that you only baby-sit."

Ah, there it was. The delightful blush that he already had the pleasure to see more than once at Graham Manor and that had been his intended goal. It crept over her cheeks, a traitorous sign that he still knew how to make her flush and that his verbal skills had not left him yet.

As she did not know what to say he continued.

"Might I have the honour of being introduced to the…young lady is it?" Apparently that was the right thing to state as she turned towards the child again and the mortification that had emanated her left once more.

"Yes of course. Melly this is Count Dragulia. Sir may I introduce you to Miss Melanie Taylor?" The little girl regarded him with a curious expression as if she knew what had just happened. Then her interest was aroused by the silver chain around Cassandra's neck that swung in her range since the woman had bowed down to speak with her. Babbling happily she made attempts to grasp the jewellery.

_Shiny._

"No my precious this is not for playing. When you are older you can have something like that." Carefully Cassie removed the fumbling little hands from the chain and tucked it into her blouse. The infants face screwed up and a soft wail could be heard, steadily getting louder because the toy had been taken away.

"Aw my sweet don't cry. Look isn't this much better?" She offered the little doll that Anna had left with her. But Melly was not mollified. Angry tears threatened to roll down her cheeks.

"Here. What do you think about this?" Drawing a pocket watch on a chain out of the vest of his suit Dracula squatted down to get nearer to Melanie. Slowly he began to dangle it and suddenly the child went still watching the new shiny plaything with growing interest. Finally she tried to grab it but he was faster and got the golden watch out of her reach yet not so far away that her interest would vane again. Under the astonished eyes of Cassandra he played with little Miss Taylor who by now was grinning again.

Continuing to leisurely swing his pocket watch he gazed up at the woman.

"You look surprised Miss Graham. Is it so unusual that I might know how to appease a child? I do like children."

Cassandra smiled that soft smile of hers.

"Well I know very few men who can calm an infant down as fast as you presently did your Excellency. You seem to have experience in the matter." And in reference to his greeting she added bit mischievously, "Maybe it's you who held something back?"

His answering laughter grabbed the attention of more than one of the people at the stalls who were studying the picture the three presented with fascination. The woman, the man and the child did not know they resembled a perfect little family.

"Ah Miss Graham are we getting brave?" His brow wandered up and the corner of his mouth twisted.

"But no, I don't have children. It's better that way."

Dismissing his first comment she could not help to inquire about his last words.

"But why milord? You just said you like children."

"Maybe it's because I know myself too well. A son would have a hard time with me. I'd be too demanding so he'll become a man. And a daughter…." here he chuckled "well, a daughter would become much too arrogant because I'd spoil her rotten."

Cassandra laughed lightly and the Count thoughtfully eyed Melly who still had not given up on her attempts to get the watch.

"Females need to be spoilt. Spoilt and protected so they stay gentle and kind. Everything else is a loss of beauty."

With a placid expression on her face she watched him, silence reigning between them, yet not uncomfortable. They understood each other.

Some minutes later Dracula could make out the approaching mother of Melanie in the distance and he straightened. He did not want to be involved in mindless chatter that would interfere with the short moments he just spent in Cassandra's company.

Pocketing his watch he affectionately ruffled the child's hair.

"I have to say goodbye for now Miss Graham. An appointment I'm afraid."

She nodded.

"Certainly Sir, don't let me keep you. I hope we will see more of you now that you are back. You are, of course, always welcome to visit us. My parents will be delighted to greet you at our home."

He itched to ask her if she would be delighted, too, but that would have been plump. And plumpness wasn't his style. But twisting her words was not above him.

"Thank you. It will be my pleasure to call on you. Be assured that we will definitely see each other again in the near future."

After a bow he left, sensing her gaze on his back. Smirking slightly to himself he just felt better as if he'd won the war against the Turks all over again.

Cassandra was still staring at his retreating back when Anna arrived. She, too, looked into the direction the man had gone.

"Wasn't that the Romanian Count that stayed at your house some time ago?"

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Cassie answered.

"He was a guest of my parents during the last week of June."

"A guest of your parents, indeed. If I remember correctly you danced a rather remarkable waltz with him at the party."

The other woman grinned down at her.

"And now he seemed quite interested in speaking alone to you. He left before I came here."

"He had an appointment he said." Cassandra refused to interpret anything else into the Counts actions than the normal behaviour between two acquaintances.

Anna rolled her eyes and bent down to pick up her squirming daughter who had recognized her mother and did not want to stay on her baby-sitter's lap anymore.

"An excuse if I ever heard one. But I see you are still unconvinced that he might be attracted by you." She winked at the other woman. "However if you'll find yourself in his arms some day don't say I did not warn you."

--O--

Blazing light surrounded the home of the Hughes' family telling even the ignorant that this evening was a special one. The turning area at the front of the residence was bursting with people and into those masses the three oldest Graham sisters were spilled by their limousine. They were terribly late by Cassie's standard but it could not have been helped. A seam had burst on Raphaela's dress and they had only been able to leave after Amelia had stitched it up again.

Ascending the steps up to the front door with a group of other solemnly dressed men and women they entered the house.

"I'm just glad you are not needed at the press conference Cass. It would have been a disaster." Nefer and Raphie relinquished their faux fur wraps to a waiting servant.

"Indeed. I hope everything went well, I have to ask Carolyn after they are finished." Another servant approached Cassandra to take her wrap too when he was interrupted by his own employer. Robert Hughes approached the Grahams with flying jacket being just that short from unfashionable running.

"Cassandra thank God you are here. We have a problem!"

Not holding himself back with asking for her permission he took her arm and steered her fast paced into the direction he had come from. Cassie could see her sisters trailing them with baffled faces and looked up at the man in confusion.

"Robert whatever is wrong?"

"Carolyn was in an automobile accident; her chauffer overlooked a traffic sign." Carolyn Henderson was next to her as one of three heads of the charity group and responsible for representing them. She was also a friend of the oldest Graham daughter, who was shocked by the news.

"What? But how, I mean, is she alright?"

The man sighed in irritation and they turned another corner.

"Yes, yes, as far as I know she is. Our greater concern is that she couldn't be here in time and we had to start the press statement without her. Because you were not here, too, Harry took her place on the stage." Harold Martin was the third leader.

Yet she could not help to still be puzzled.

"So what is the problem exactly? If Harry tells them what they need to know I can't see any crisis."

Robert's impatience grew and with this the length of his stride. The women struggled to keep up with him.

"You know Harry. You know how befuddled he sometimes is, worse than a professor. He somehow got the numbers wrong and told the press that the organization received only 2 million dollars, 1.7 million less than what was released as final sum this morning. They of course demanded to know what happened with the outstanding money. There has been talk of corruption and Harry is not able to calm them down. If we don't do something it will be all over tomorrow's papers that our organization can't be trusted."

"Oh my God!" Other words escaped Cassie's mind, the thoughts about an upcoming scandal being too much for any further articulations.

Finally they seemed to have arrived at the intended destination because he opened a door and guided her in, Raphaela and Amelia following in after them.

The small walk-through room they entered was already occupied by two other men, Jonathan Woods and to her surprise Count Dragulia who bowed softly in greeting.

When the lock clicked behind them Jon rounded on their host.

"Robert I told you she can't do that."

Then he nodded to his best friend's sisters, "Hello Cassandra. Amelia. Raphaela.",before addressing Hughes again.

"This plan of yours is utter madness. I won't allow her to be fed to those vultures."

"She has to. It's the only way to avoid the outrage of the donators."

He turned to the blonde woman at has side.

"The press insists to speak with the other leaders. I tried to talk to them but they won't listen they only want to speak to a head. They demand you Cassandra. I know you don't like this but you need to go on the stage and calm them down and explain. Otherwise we can clam up."

Within an instant she went pale and took a small step back as if to hide behind her younger siblings. Her grey eyes gazed at him in panic and when she answered him her voice was so hoarse it was hard to understand her.

"I can't. Robert, I can't."

Nefer and Raphaela exchanged a look then Amelia stepped in front of her oldest sister facing their host while Raphie moved to the door on the opposite wall. It led to the chamber where the press conference was held and the humming of raised voices talking at the same time could be heard even through the hick wood.

She silently opened it to peer into the room, the noise growing louder immediately.

"You have your reply. She said no so you have to think of something else. I won't let her go out there and to be verbally ripped to pieces."

Amelia showered Hughes with angry words and Raphaela closed the door again.

"Greenwood is out there."

If possible the colour of Cassandra's skin turned even more ashen. She looked close to fainting and Jon went to take a place next to Nefer confronting Robert.

"Now it's clear why they only want to speak to her, that asshole talked them into it. Hughes you knew that bastard was with them and still tried convince her to go out there? Are you out of your mind?" He did not apologize for the uncouth phrases used in the presence of women.

Dracula stood there studying the entire scene calmly. Raphaela had joined the group of three and now the other men and two younger females were discussing the whole topic in angry tones. The subject of their conversation stood a bit offside watching the four with terror etched into her features. It was the first time that he saw her scared like this, her small hands clamped together at her chest, buried in the fur of her wrap as if to protect herself from this entire ruckus.

Cassandra's thoughts ran rampant. However among those thoughts, she understood the need for someone who'd appease the press she wasn't the person to do that. She couldn't. Not when Greenwood was present, the terrible man who'd had written those hideous things about her in the past. With distress she listened to the four peoples rising voices when suddenly another one spoke up addressing her directly, the well-known Romanian accent caressing her ears.

"Miss Graham, Hughes is right."

Within the second the room returned to utter stillness. Everyone was looking at the Count, four of them in astonishment, one with regret.

"Sir you don't understand…"

He never gave her a chance to complete her sentence.

"Miss Graham I have seen you dealing with five arguing teenagers, your unpunctual brother not to mention your paternal grandmother. You are a grown woman who successfully manages a household full of people with different interests and strong characters every day. Do you really want to tell me that you are afraid of a bunch of cretins?"

Cassie lowered her eyes. How could she ever explain to him why she was not able to do this?

"Why don't you just tell her to grow a back-bone? That's about the same what you just said only shorter." Raphie's hands wandered to her hips.

"Please Miss Raphaela there's no need to be crude."

Dracula smirked and Jonathan went to the defence of the damsel in distress.

"With all due respect, Sir, you don't know the entire story behind this." He turned to Cassandra. "You don't need to do it. We'll find another way."

When she looked up at again the query displayed in two grey pupils was clear.

'_What if they weren't able to come up with something?'_Jon was not able to answer this unspoken question and Dracula was just that short from snorting. All great words and nothing behind them. Didn't they see that the woman needed more to be reminded of her responsibilities as a head of the organization than to be hidden away from the big bad world?

It was his next comment that should seal the deal.

"Miss Graham it's your duty."

Woods began to splutter, her sisters faces contorted into scowls and Hughes tried ineffectively to hide his pleased expression.

Cassandra's attention however was solely focused on the Count. He had taken a step in her direction those unforgiving blue eyes piercing her, his regal stance underlying the meaning of his words. He stood there similar to a king who was unsatisfied with the behaviour of a noble and somehow she could read some disappointment about her into his features.

_I thought better of you._

A deep breath later her decision was made.

Carefully she opened the pin that held her wrap together, slid the fur off her shoulders and handed it to Raphaela. Her nervous hands smoothed down the black satin of her dress while she moved to the opposite door and suddenly she was uncomfortably aware of the heavy diamonds resting on the naked skin of her décolleté.

Nefer had preceded her to the door and grasped the handle to open it for her oldest sister.

"Are you sure you want to do this? They are going to eat you alive."

Old guidelines told by a person long gone rang in Cassandra's head.

Raise your head! Straighten your spine and your shoulders! Lift your chin up! Small steps, a perfect posture and a kind expression are the manner to represent your station! You are a lady and it's the mob that has to clear outwards for a lady. Never vice versa! Never!

Unconsciously acting on the principles that had been stamped into her mind since childhood her whole stance tightened. In a few short seconds the transformation between timid woman and proud queen was finished and a small smile grazed her lips when she answered Amelia.

"Then it's my obligation to tell them I taste better with some mustard."

--O--

"Mister Woods." Jon spun around just to come face to face with his malicious looking costumer and he painfully noted that although they stood in a ballroom filled with people no one paid attention to them.

"Count. Nice party isn't it?"

If possible the Romanians attitude became even more wicked.

"Indeed. Mister Woods let me give you a piece of advice. Never again assume that I am uninformed. It might be the last thing you do in your career. And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

The dumbfounded nod of the young man was enough for Dracula and content that his message had been understood he left again in search of a particular young woman.

--O--

The party would only go about forty-five minutes longer and those could not be over fast enough for Cassandra. Moving out on a small balcony she relished the cool night air that stroked her heated skin and she could not help but be glad that after this evening she would have more time for herself again. It was selfish, yes, and she scolded herself for these thoughts.

But she had to admit the preparations for two big festivities held within a month had worn her out and today's chaos had certainly put a top on all the stress that had enveloped her in the last weeks. Shuddering delicately she remembered how she had stepped into the room of the press conference some hours ago. How the click of her heels had alerted them to her person when she had walked through the aisle towards the small stage and a relieved Harry. How she had apologized for her lateness. And how she had finally been able give the right numbers calculating loudly so they would hear she had no intent to deceive them. Eventually they had been conciliated and the conference had ended with satisfaction on both sides. Greenwood who had been remarkably quiet while his colleagues bombarded her with questions had spoken up just before she had wanted to rescind the meeting enquiring about the reason of her tardiness.

"_Why Mister Greenwood I have heard it to be a prerogative of women __to be late and thought to try it out. Of course I apologize for the inconvenient timing. However there is no mystery behind my delay and I ask you not to make an emotional breakdown out of it. I know that it isn't exactly your style to recount events as they happened but maybe you could make an exception this time? For me?"_

That had put him into his place. While the rest of the audience had shaken with laughter she had closed the discussion stepping majestically down from the podium. Her grandmother would have been proud of her. Noblesse obliges and even if she had not been born into aristocracy she definitely had the proper upbringing. There was no place for petty trepidations in her life as much as she would want to hide behind them.

Flattening her hands over the marble banister Cassie let her gaze wander over the dark garden below her. Apart of the murmuring of a fountain that could be heard in the distance the park lay in deep silence as a contrast to the roaring festivity behind her. Only half an hour more. The sound of wing tips on tiles came nearer and somehow she suspected who it would be as he had a talent of finding her alone. She knew she had been right when a tall masculine figure stepped next to her.

"Might I join you Miss Graham? The air in the ballroom is ready to be cut and I don't want to be present when that happens."

Cassandra looked up to smile at her father's client.

"Please Sir, stay. I fled the air myself but without company it can get quite lonely here. And then…" she hesitated.

Dracula raised a curious eyebrow.

"And then? Do go on Miss Graham, I'm all ears."

Cass fought the urge to blush. He always made her go red in the face with minimal gestures and she decided that this had to end here and now.

"Well we have not seen much of each other tonight. So it's even more a pleasure to be able to talk to you at this moment."

His blue pupils seemed to glow in the dark, the amused smirk she had so often seen on him played around his mouth and it was hard for her not to let her eyes linger on his fine lips.

"Why, Miss Graham, one would think you missed me?"

The teasing words made her lose her fight and she lowered her head so he would not notice the colour rising high on her cheeks.

"Sir I…"

Two long fingers gently tipped up her chin, interrupting the beginning of her defence-speech. When he spoke his voice was laced with regret.

"I'm sorry Miss Graham. This was rude. It is ill manners to embarrass a lady and I apologize. I forgot myself." The fingers left again but he was standing so close that she could smell his cologne. It was the one he had also worn at the party and it produced the same pictures in her head as it had done while they had danced.

"But alas, it is not the only thing I have to apologize for. I wanted to ask your forgiveness for my harsh words from earlier. It wasn't my place."

Carefully he watched her reaction to make out if his phrase caught. Apologies had never been his favourite activity but when they were closely linked with the goal of seducing Cassandra he would make an exception. Dracula knew that he would only able to conquer this woman if she trusted him. She would not give herself to him if she doubted his intentions.

"Sir there's no need. If anything you have encouraged me. It was silly to be frightened of….what did you call them? A bunch of cretins?"

She bestowed on him a smile that was both reassuring and charming and that showed him that he had been right to plead a bit with her.

"That description was nothing but the truth. You will soon discern Miss Graham that I don't lie. I don't insult and I don't flatter."

His tone dropped to a murmur and he itched to grasp her waist and draw her into him. Yet he had to be patient so he settled for softly taking her right hand into his toying tenderly with her fingers

"I only mention facts." That he sometimes bent the truth a bit to match his words wasn't something he'd give away.

"So when I tell you now that you did very well in front of this 'bunch of cretins' it's nothing but my honest opinion."

It was. He and the others had been watching her from the walk-through room having listened to everything she said. When she had responded to Greenwoods question a bell had rung in his memory. Under the article that Mikhail had found for him the initials of the author had been typed, together with the press sign. LGw. He'd bet that Greenwoods first name started with L. Cassandra had held herself better than he had thought after having seen her terrified behaviour in the antechamber and her final conduct in front of the press had surprised him a bit.

"Thank you Sir."

Slowly he lowered his head brushing a delicate kiss on the back of her hand his eyes never leaving hers, which widened slightly. It was the first time he had allowed himself to touch the white skin with his lips and if he had any say in the matter it wouldn't be the last time, not to mention that it wasn't solely the back of her hand he wanted to taste.

"Nothing but the truth Miss Graham." He perked up when the technically enhanced voice of his host reached out to them, announcing the end of the party.

"It seems we are required inside."

Taking his offered arm she let herself be guided into the ballroom where some of the other guests had already begun to make their way to the foyer. Trailing the masses the couple escaped the notice of most of them only two or three detecting the man and the woman who had come in from a secluded balcony. When they entered the foyer however more people become aware of them, whispering softly to their neighbours that the oldest Graham daughter was escorted by a gentleman and almost everyone watched more or less obvious as the Count took Cassandra's wrap from a servant and laid it around her shoulders himself.

An angry pair of mud brown eyes observed the whole display. Jealousy eating away at his heart Jonathan stood hidden in the throng of people.

"Are you going to help me with my fur or are you still occupied with staring holes into my sister?"

Raphaela had appeared at the young man's side holding out her wrap.

"Of course Raph." He took it from her and the moment he draped it over her shoulders she bent back to whisper in his ear.

"Let me give you an advice. Cass is content with him, don't destroy it for her. She won't love you any more than now if you put him off of her. You'll just become a laughing stock."

Closing the clasp of the fur she turned to look at him with raised brows. Jonathan gritted his teeth.

"Why don't you leave it to your sister to choose between two men? She is, as Dragulia mentioned this evening, a grown up woman."

"Oh Jonathan. Cassandra doesn't even know there are options."

With that she left to join her siblings.

* * *

Ladies and Gentlemen I present: the next chapter. As promised I uploaded it early…I won't tell you now that I was very impatient to have this up. So the moment Saturday turned into Sunday I put this thingy online.

As always thank you's go to those who reviewed and to Nienna who betaed the chap.

ForeverACharmedOne: You wouldn't be the only one who recorded this conversation. Btw: I had work today….eight hours of ideas running through my head. Where is the time to write when I need it?

Twilightalcoholic92: Thank you for that review. I hope you like the new chapter!

The One And Only Charcoal: Ahhhh it's always nice if others listen to my advices. I feel so proud of myself, hehe. So now, I hope this chapter did not confuzzle (I'm still grinning when I read that word) you soooo much.

Kairis-twin: Soon enough? Grin. Like chapter 9? I'd love to hear your opinion.

Remember: Daaaaarling! Daylight saving time….as in: TOMORROW!!!! We can talk longer on Monday…bc then it will REALLY be noon your time when I'm home. Never mind that I have work on 5.30 a.m. the next morning and never mind that after work I have university till 8.00p.m. on Tuesday. We are able to talk….that's all that counts! HUGGLES!!! (Do I need to tell you that your review has brought me to a sniffling mess…? Love you!!!! So much!)

CherryBlossomKitty x: I'm sooooo sorry. I still haven't answered your PM. I'm such a slacker. But I looooove those long reviews you are writing. My heart is jumping around joyfully when I read them and I really admire the effort you put inot your reviews. Do go on with those long reviews and you'll have a veeeery happy authoress on your hands.

Again a BIG thank you to the reviewers.

Is it noticeable that I just finished my second bottle of Coca Cola?....Yes I'm being random here…sugar, caffeine, 8 hours of work and English (!!!!!!) homework do that to me.

Btw: the quote at the beginning of the chapter has been translated by me. Myself. Moi…you get the idea. Fact is I only found the thing in German and to have it understood by my avid (hehe) readers I translated it.

About the next chapter: the idea is there, the outline is there I only need the time to write it. I actually wanted to do this the day before yesterday bc we had a holiday here in Germany…well guess what I did: NADA! I had been buried with homework. I hope I can write it down soon and then get it to Nienna who hopefully will find some minutes in her busy schedule to beta it.

However I can tell you: I love that chapter even now although I have not written a word. Remember loves it too…or at least she loves what I have told her about the chap…and the people in it…especially the men…tee hee…

In case you wondered: I'm getting a bit away from the original story that has already been written and where I "only" needed to revise the chapters. The next chapter is a new one inspired by some music and the start of my new study course (don't ask). I'll get back to the original written chapters soon, the next one is just an addition. One that fits quite well...

Anyways something I wanted to ask you about: Would you like to get a short teaser/sneak preview at the end of each chapter/authors note for the next chapter? Tell me about it. I'll just do one this time so you know what to expect. If you tell me you want a preview every time I'll do it. It's up to you.

I'll see you at the next chapter!

-Roux

* * *

_**Preview chapter 10:**_

"_What is this I hear about a certain Count and you?"_

"_I don't know…what did you hear?"_

"_I think you know what I'm talking about. The grapevine is buzzing with excitement!"_

"_Ah. Weren't you the one that told me once upon a time that gossip is nothing for grown men?"_

"_I see you are still the headstrong little thing you always have been."_

"_Maybe it's you who has changed then?"_

"_Me? HAH! Give me five minutes and I'll have you purring."_

* * *


	11. Chapter 10: 48 Hours Part I

* * *

This very long chapter is dedicated to two amazing ladies, Remember and Nienna.

Nienna, thank you for being my beta, for putting up with my grammar and for challenging me at each step I take with this story. Without you this chapter would not be as it is now. It was your (sometimes) brutal honesty and questioning that I needed to get over clichés and too much mush. I'm more than glad the chapter is the way it is now although it has been a great challenge to get over my cowardice and an even greater challenge to finally write the whole thing. Challenge me further my dear. I'm up to it and I look forward to it. Oh and yes: I still want a funeral for the man!

Remember thank you for being there for putting up with my bouncing ideas even when you are tired and exhausted. I know how much you love then man and he is as officially yours as Jack is mine. Do with him what you want…and I know you want to. My promise stands. The m. will be possible and if I have to do somersaults!

Thank you Ladies for your friendship, for your help, for everything. This story would not have taken the turn it has without you. Hugs and Kisses to you both! -S

BTW: Work out among yourselves which part is dedicated to whom…I'm so not deciding this. Grin.

* * *

**Chapter**** X**

_**48 hours**_

* * *

_**Part I**_

* * *

„**If your ****sister**** is in a tearing hurry to go out and cannot catch your eye, she's wearing your best sweater****"**

_Pam Brown_

* * *

The meaning of the name Amelia is to thrive to excel or to rival.

The meaning of the name Elizabeth is "God is my oath".

And Nefertiti means "The perfect one has arrived."

Amelia Elizabeth Graham - called "Nefer" - bore names that fit her personality perfectly. Not only in meaning. Her second and her nickname had been worn by queens, famous queens who still resided in the minds of people. This was what she wanted too. She wanted to be known not only by her own family and friends but by a worldwide audience. Be it with her violin playing or her designing: Nefer wanted to be perfect.

Yet it was her oldest sister that always got that predicate. Cassandra. She was Nefer's greatest role model and also her greatest rival. To step out of the shadow of her domineering sister was the thing Amelia caved most. The worst thing was that Cass wasn't overbearing on purpose. It was just her nature to be concerned and take care of everything. She had done it for too long to stop now, having managed the household as well as her sisters for over 7 years now reigning with a gentle but strong hand. The whole problem lay in the gentility -it was hard to rage against someone who was as kind as Cassandra.

Nefer loved to come home and know that Cassie was there to cuddle up with, to talk about worries. Yet there were times when the other woman's mothering just got too much. At the age of nineteen one certainly knew what one wanted and if it was a man of dubious reputation it was one's own decision. Even her mother was entirely different to her oldest sister and Amelia discovered more and more similarities between Cordelia and herself than between herself or Cass or even Cordelia and her oldest daughter.

Where Cass was concerned and worried and leaving subtle hints when she disliked something Cordelia was open and funny and never told Nefer that she shouldn't do a thing because it might be bad. In Amelia's mind the roles between her mother and Cassandra were reserved and she knew that the other girls felt similar. Yet they didn't have the problems with the fact that Nef had. They just took it as it was, still listening to Cassandra regarding Cordelia more as another kind of older sister similar to Maeve. The woman that had born them was less familiar to them than the woman that had lived with them constantly for the last thirteen years. And so Nefer was alone with the fire inside herself and the wish to thrive and excel and to triumph over Cassandra. She did not want to feel like that after all she loved the woman dearly. But there was a silent spot of dislike in Nefer's heart that at times wanted nothing more than to scream at Cass.

Moments like the one in the antechamber when she could be the one that protected Cassandra were cherished. It showed her that her sister wasn't perfect that she had flaws and fears.

Sighing over her own reflections, the young woman went through her atelier putting things in order for the engagement she'd have in a few minutes. As promised the Count had called her some days ago to make an appointment for the final fitting of his Király suit.

To say Nefer was nervous would have been the understatement of the century. She was bloody anxious and the reason for that lay not only in the worth of the suit. Walking over to where her stereo sat she thought about the man who would wear the clothes. And what a man it was. Amelia grinned while choosing a CD and putting it into the holder. With the Count you knew just from one look that the sex would be fabulous. A pity he was interested in Cassandra and she herself had a preference to blonde men.

"_I know something about love…"_

The voice of Vonda Shepard filled the atelier room and Nef's eyes raised to the clock on the wall. Ten more minutes.

"_For man and woman were created to make love their destiny…"_

"Good morning Miss Amelia," A voice from the doorway made her turn around. Leaning against the frame, a hanger in his hand was the Romanian observing the room and its inhabitant with cool gaze. "Do you believe in what she is singing?"

Nefer smiled.

"Good morning Count. Please do come in."

When he met her in the middle of the room she smirked up at him.

"In regards to your question, well, I think it depends on the situation."

Her sultry smile was reflected by a raised eyebrow, then he changed the topic.

"I see you are very professionally equipped. I have to admit I am impressed."

His words reminded her that this was a business appointment and her expression sobered up.

"I would not have offered my services if I wasn't in the possession of the proper utensils. So shall we start then?" She motioned to a door leading to a small chamber.

"If you want you can change in there."

While he did exactly what she had proposed Nefer mentally prepared herself for the things to come. She always did that before she started on something artistic be it a violin piece or the designing of a new dress. It helped her focus and become inspired.

The music was still playing in the background only the song had changed when the Count re-entered the atelier again and Amelia could not help but whistle through her teeth.

"Király is a genius."

With gleaming eyes she observed the midnight-blue colour of the suit that adorned the man's figure. It was clear on the first look that this piece was not only expensive but also not available for everyone who had money. The small sign of the designer was stitched in at the lapel again, this time done with a small silver thread.

The corners of Dracula's mouth twisted when the young female was just standing there gazing at him.

"Like what you see Miss Amelia?"

"Indeed I do." Unfazed by his amusement she circled him.

"Did you expect anything else? Surely you know how good you look in a suit."

Quickly she squatted down in front of him grabbing a pin from the small cushion around her wrist and began to alter the length of his right pant leg.

He chuckled upon her blunt words.

"It's obvious that you and Miss Theresa are related. The candour seems to be running in both of your veins."

Nefer answered without even looking up.

"Oh come on don't behave as if you don't like being flattered. Men like you are always aware of the effect they have on women."

"Men like me? Now I'm curious. Elaborate please."

Clucking her tongue she turned towards the other pant leg.

"Fishing for compliments? I won't inflate your ego here Count. As far as I noted you are very self-confident. I don't think I need to add to that."

Standing up she examined her work and after she had made sure that she had done everything right her gaze began to travel higher up his legs over those strong thighs lingering shortly where his trousers bulged before taking in his broad chest finally meeting his eyes. The eyebrows were raised as they had been when they had met in the kitchen, the azure pupils staring into her brown one.

Forcing herself to appear indifferent Amelia tilted her head.

"What? You gave me an obvious once over just a week ago and might I remind you that I did not wear much at the time? It's just fair that I return the favour."

The man in front of her stayed silent just watching her intently and so she stepped around him to fit the jacket next. Carefully she smoothed her hands over his shoulder levelling the cloth.

"Is there a place where you feel uncomfortable?"

"No." His voice did not betray anything.

"Good."

As if out of her own accord her palms left their place and ran down his back sensing the muscles despite the layers in between.

However before she could reach his midriff her left wrist was grasped and she was hauled back in front of him before being drawn into that hard body she had admired; she was now able to feel what she had imagined.

Nefer's breath came in short gasps when a sensual thumb was dragged down her spine, the hand that had grabbed pinning her flush against his chest.

"And just what do you think you are doing …Elizabeth?"

She would never know if it was way his lips almost caressed her ear or the way his cheek was pressed against hers or if it was the way he purred her second name. All Amelia knew was that a soft sound escaped her throat and made him chuckle. Slowly she regained hold of her senses.

"I merely like to try out how far I can go. No harm done Count." Her head fell back when he swiftly grabbed her thigh, lifted it to bend her leg and brought her even closer to him, the evidence of his manhood creating a delicious friction. Heat began to pool in her stomach when his nose stroked the sensitive skin behind her ear.

"I don't like being teased, you'd do well to remember that. Don't bite off more than you can chew little girl. Besides, I have other things on my agenda today."

He pulled back to look into her eyes which had opened upon his words, anger creeping into them.

"I'm not a little girl anymore." Nefer's voice was but a hiss. Unimpressed he let go of her leg but still held her where she was.

"Maybe not. But you should be glad that I still think you a bit young. Otherwise you wouldn't be talking right now but be on your back. Or maybe bent over your own work table in the corner there."

She shuddered when the pictures presented themselves in her head and he continued his tone dropping till he almost growled.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? If I put you back in your place? However…" he suddenly let her go and took a step back. "I don't think your oldest sister would be amused by these actions."

The sudden loss of his vicinity was more than noticeable to Nefer and the mentioning of Cassandra brought her back down forcefully. With a sneer she rearranged her hair into something resembling order.

"Ah yes. Cassie. The other thing on your agenda. Did it never occur to you that it could work to your advantage if she thinks she has some competition?"

A surprised expression flickered over his face. Then he smirked.

"And of course this would work to your advantage, too, I presume?"

Amelia's smile had a cruel touch to it.

"Maybe. But think about it. The idea of competition always makes women anxious to prove themselves. My sister isn't an exception. There is no need for real actions, Cassandra only has to believe there might be something."

She advanced on him again and softly grasped his sleeve to modify the length there, too.

"Just think about it." Nefer repeated before suddenly standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear.

"It might help you to get to your goal faster…Vladislaus."

Then she moved back to resume the fitting of the suit as if nothing had happened. About half an hour later they had finished and were walking down the stairs to the foyer.

The butler was nowhere to be seen and so the woman opened the front door for the Count to see him off.

"I'll have the suit sent to your hotel in about two or three days. Is that acceptable?"

"Very. Thank you again for your help."

"Oh that's not a problem I loved doing it."

Nefer offered her hand for him to shake and almost jumped back when he bowed low over her fingers.

His eyes met hers when he turned the hand over, the palm facing up.

"About your words from earlier…perhaps you are right."

A tremble shot up her arm when his lips met her life line.

Astonished she watched him straighten and tip his head in a final greeting.

"Miss Nefer," Then he was out of the door.

Only when she heard his car speed down the driveway was she able to turn and begin the way back to her rooms never noticing the woman in the shadow that had watched the whole exchange.

--O--

The traffic light turned green and Dracula applied pressure onto the gas pedal. He recalled the fitting session with a grin. Who'd have thought that Miss Amelia could be so direct? The woman was, despite her youth, a minx. He almost felt pity for the man who someday might fall in love with her. Nefer had the assets to be a femme fatale. It would be amusing to see her progress in life.

Yet he had other things to do. His prey was, after all not Amelia Elizabeth but Cassandra Beatrice Graham.

Plotting his next steps he drove through the small town near Graham Manor. While turning a corner and waiting at a pedestrian crossing he suddenly spotted a familiar figure entering a little shop a few meters ahead of him and the smile that had lingered on his face turned saucy.

If Dracula had learned anything in the over 400 years of his life, then it was not to believe in coincidence. It only took him a few minutes to find a parking spot before he stood outside the store studying the sign that told the uninformed that this was a place where antiquities were sold.

The small bell over the door gave a light tinkle when he entered. After nodding in salutation to the elderly man at the register he began to prowl narrow rows of wooden shelves where many different goods were stored. He passed a section where old silverware was laid out till finally, at the back of the store, he found her. The picture she presented made him smirk.

On a ladder leaning against a bookshelf stood a rather precariously positioned Cassandra with her back to him giving the Count a perfect view of her derriere and shapely legs. The red blouse she wore strained when she reached up to get a book from the topmost shelf.

Watching her taking down the tome and examine the cover he decided to, once again, surprise her a bit. Cautiously he went towards the oblivious woman till he was directly behind her.

"How's the air up there Miss Graham?"

With a shriek she dropped the volume and turned, forgetting that she still stood on just a thin piece of wood. The pace of her movement made her loose her footing and she would have made a fairly painful departure from the ladder if not for the two strong hands that held her in place with a firm but gentle grip.

Dracula could feel her racing heart beating beneath his fingers which were resting around her ribcage, his thumbs lingering dangerously close to the underside of her breasts.

Slowly regaining control of her senses again, Cassandra found the breath to speak to him.

"Sir! Heavens! Are you trying to form a habit out of making me startle as much as humanly possible? Because I have to tell you…it's working."

Still wide eyed she gazed down at his grinning self.

"I'm sorry Miss Graham I couldn't resist. It was just too good an opportunity although I did not intend for you to lose your balance, and for that I apologize. If I may ask: are you done here?"

Confused she furrowed her brows.

"Yes I only wanted to get the book that I dropped, but why do you…aaaah." Another yelp escaped her when suddenly the grip of his hands became stronger and she was swung around till she finally was placed on the dark hardwood floor. Before she was able to utter another word the Count had bowed down and picked up the tome that had fallen out of her hand.

Straightening he gave her an annoyed look.

"How typical for a woman to step onto a ladder while wearing heels. Did it never occur to you Miss Graham that these shoes are just screaming for accidents to happen?"

The well-known smile had reappeared on her face deepening when he delivered his speech.

"That might be true Sir. Alas I have to admit that I can't walk without heels so I have to settle with pumps. Nefer once said that I swagger worse than a drunken pirate in flat shoes." A bit of a sheepish expression crept onto her face when he began to chuckle.

"Really? What an interesting mental image. Yet Miss Graham I didn't tell you to forgo heels. A woman should wear them no matter how small - they are one of the greatest assets of femininity."

Still holding her book he motioned for her to precede him back to the front of the shop.

"However when in heels, one should refrain from taking a walk through meadows, hiking or, as we just witnessed, step on a ladder. Why didn't you ask the shop owner to get the volume for you?"

Turning her head to answer his question her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Have you taken a look at him Sir? I was afraid he'd get a heart attack if exposed to the thin air up the ladder."

The mischievous twinkle in her grey pupils was not lost to him and Dracula found himself rewarding her with laughing out loud.

Continuing to chuckle, they came to a halt in front of the register where he gave her the tome and then waited till she had paid for it.

After a polite goodbye to the old man she turned to the door, the Count following after her, but before she got there, she unexpectedly stopped.

"Oh how sweet!"

The exclamation was over a small statuette resting on a single shelf next to the door; it was of a brunette woman in rococo ball attire, her hair piled up on her head and her dance card between the china fingers.

With gleaming eyes she stood before the shelf.

"My grandmother had exactly the same figurine. It was my favourite in her collection. Unfortunately I broke it when I was eight." Uttering a wistful sigh she admired the small piece of porcelain.

"You can touch it if you want."

Both the Count and Cassandra turned when the shop keeper made his presence known. The woman shook her head upon the offer.

"That's very kind of you Mr. Boudin but I don't want to test my fortune. There's no need to repeat past experiences."

She looked back to the figurine.

"Allow me."

Leaning forward a bit, Dracula reached around her and picked the china statuette up raising it for them to study.

"It's truly a magnificent piece. And you said you broke it?"

"Yes I did. Actually I wasn't even touching it when it happened. I was in a hurry and ran into the chest of drawers it stood on. The upshot was a livid grandmother, a broken figurine and a big bruise on my arm."

The Count could not help himself he had to laugh another time at her resigned tone, carefully placing the little rococo belle on the shelf again.

However when he drew his right hand back he "accidentally" brushed the side of her right breast.

Startled, Cassandra jumped back, trying to give him room but momentarily forgetting that he was right behind her. Her right foot stepped partially on his boot and she teetered for a moment before the Count's hands automatically shot out to support her. So concerned was he with steadying her that he didn't pay attention to where his hands landed until it was too late. They had grasped her pelvis, which made the distance between them non-existent.

Her behind was rubbing enticingly against his male privates creating a delicious pressure and he could feel himself reacting to it. The woman seemed to be oblivious to what she did to him because she turned to apologize, wriggling against him even more increasing the friction.

Taking a sharp breath he tried to get his hot blood under control. He needed to have her and soon or she would drive him insane with her purity. Curling his fingers a bit he interrupted her exculpation, bending his head down to her face to stare into her eyes, his voice dropping to a growl.

"No need to apologize Miss Graham. However as this is the second time today that I'm steadying you I'll just warn you now: one more time and I get a wish." The last word was murmured almost inaudible his gaze flickering to her lips which were only a few inches away from his.

When he looked up again her skin shone a delightful red. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. Beautiful success.

"Understood?"

Incapable to speak she nodded and with a bit of regret he let go of her.

"Come then. I suspect you have other purchases to make?"

Placing his right hand at the small of her back he guided Cassandra out of the shop and on to the streets of the small town to the market.

He was surprised that he actually found delight in accompanying her to the market observing her as she bought a few things here and there. His hand stayed where it was the whole time and soon his left was occupied, too, carrying her purchases.

It was after she declared that she had finished all her purchases and they were just walking along the cobble stones to his car when she stumbled and bumped against him.

Stabilizing her yet again both of them looked down to see what halted her progress.

In the rift between two cobblestones was her heel not budging as she tried to move her foot.

"Ah, Miss Graham. Is it only me or are you a bit unsteady on your feet today?"

Handing her the paper bags the Count stepped in front of her squatting down. Before she could even protest his fingers had closed gently around her ankle getting her foot out of the pump placing it on his thigh so she wouldn't have to step on the ground or lose her balance.

His left hand still lying supportively on her calf he proceeded to get the stuck shoe out of the rift while his fingers - almost imperceptivity - stroked her leg. She wore silk stockings despite the summertime air and he was pleased with her for it. Walking without covered legs would be alright for teenagers but for a woman of twenty six it was simply improper in his opinion.

"There we are."  
The shoe had come lose and with a flourish he positioned it back on her foot, but not without softly caressing the area around her ankle with his thumb once more.

"Thank you Sir."

Cassandra was almost unable to produce words. The feeling of his fingers on her skin with nothing but a bit of silk between them had been almost too much. When he was standing again, taking the purchases from her, she found herself fighting to remain calm and not stutter.

"You are welcome Miss Graham. Now I think I'll better get you home before you break something. And might I advise you to throw theses pumps away?"

His hand slipped to the small of her back again as if it now were the most natural thing and they were able to get to the Mercedes without further accidents.

The ride to Graham Manor was done in silence.

Dracula observed the woman out of the corner of his eyes while steering the car to her home. Cassandra seemed to be pondering over one thing or other because she stared out of the window without really seeing the landscape.

However as they came to a halt before the front door of the manor and the butler that had been missing three hours ago came down the stairs she smiled at him cheerfully.

"You have not yet told me what you want Sir."

The Count looked at her in confusion.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Graham?"

Her smile became a bit roguish.

"You told me that if you have to "rescue" me a third time you would claim a free wish. So I'm asking you what you want. I don't like to be indebted."

He had to admit she had taken him off guard. That she made a step in his direction like that was…unexpected but he would have been a fool if he wouldn't take advantage of it.

"Are you sure you want to know my wish?"

Dracula loved playing with this woman.

Cassandra refused to be intimidated although the telltale blush began to ascend again.

"Certainly Sir!

"Well then…" he bent over to whisper in her ear. "I'd like you to accompany me to the opera in two days."

When he retreated she looked at him with interest.

"The opera? It would be an honour Sir."

"And I hope a delight, too, Miss Graham?"

The smirk crept back on his face when the blush won over and she lowered her eyes.

"How can you doubt that Sir? I always take delight in your company."

Chuckling lowly he gently took her hand in his.

"I don't doubt you. I just wanted to be sure." His thumb danced over her knuckles when her bravery came back.

"What performance are they giving?"

"Ah Miss Graham that would be telling…why don't you let yourself be surprised? No cheating!" A soft laugh was drawn form her.

"I promise Sir. Will black tie be sufficient?"

Dracula nodded.

"Indeed it will. So we have a date then? Oh and maybe you should tell the staff not to wait up for you. I'll take you out to dinner after the performance."

She wanted to protest but he would not have it.

"Please allow me to indulge you. I couldn't think of anyone more deserving."

The Count's lips met the back of her hand before he opened the door on his side of the car and got out. He waved the butler away who had stood aside to wait for them to finish their conversation and pulled the handle of the passenger door, his hand helping an astonished Cassandra to leave the Mercedes.

"I must be off for now, my duties are calling I'm afraid. I will see you in two days Miss Graham?"

Blue eyes bore into grey and the woman inclined her head.

"Definitely Sir. I'm looking forward to it."

After a short goodbye he got back into his car and left while Cassandra stood there watching the car till she could not see it anymore. Only then did she enter the house.

--O--

"I tell you Miss Cassandra it was improper. A man of his standing and age kissing Miss Nefer's palm…really something is definitely off there. They were after all without a chaperone when he was up with her in the atelier."

Cassie could not help but snigger at the older woman's exasperation.

"Really Mrs Jen who knows what he meant by this. It wouldn't do to read into the gesture too much. And after all, the foyer is very shadowy during that time of the day. Maybe he just kissed the back and it looked like the palm."

With a reassuring pat on the housekeeper's arm, the oldest Graham sister left the office of their butler's wife.

She must have been seeing things; there was no possible reason why the Count should do this.

Yet Cassandra could not help but feel a small stab of jealousy in her heart.

* * *

The next part is waiting for you and the link for the music can be found in my bio.


	12. Chapter 10: 48 Hours Part II

**Chapter**** X**

_**48 hours**_

* * *

_**Part II**_

* * *

"**Gentleness is the antidote for cruelty."**

_Phaedrus_

* * *

As nice as the first week of August had been the 9th day of the month met the people with a sudden temperature drop and rain.

From high above the swirling city of New York, Dracula was watching the grey atmosphere, water running down the window he stood in front of. The rooms of Graham&Woods were situated on the 32th floor of a skyscraper Graham's own father had designed decades ago.

Richard himself had left his office and his costumer some minutes ago to hunt down his secretary - and hopefully some coffee - so the Count had ample opportunity to think.

Tomorrow he would take Cassandra out. First opera then dinner and then…whatever happened would happen; Dracula was telling himself over and over again not to rush things.

The wanton side of him growled and raged at the decision but it could not be helped. He certainly did not expect Miss Graham to fall into his arms like the heroine of a romance novel. He had enough time to further her seduction. The journey would be its own reward till he finally would reach his goal and have her writhing beneath him in ecstasy.

Just a day ago he had thought that he needed to have her soon. One night of pondering however had changed this. She was still too self-conscious in his presence. Only when she was more at ease would they be able to have the sex he imagined them to have.

Musing over the date he would have in about 27 hours he resumed staring at the raindrops as they drifted down the glass.

--O--

The wind was blowing the rain around the stones of the house when the butler opened the door of the limousine for the man and the woman.

"It's just as I remembered."

Cordelia chuckled when her companion gazed thoughtfully at the façade of Graham Manor.

"It's been how long?"

"Over six years." He let her precede him into the foyer. "Age after beauty Cordelia!"

A servant took their coats when noise was heard from upstairs.

"Oh bloody hell Nef I can't believe you really did that."

Raphaela's laughter carried down to them followed by the chatter of two more sisters. They came in sight and when they saw their mother and him they raced down the stairs to greet them remembering who he was despite having not seen him for quite some time. Yet the one he had hoped for was not with them.

Yet he did not need to wait long as from the direction of the servants wing well-known steps were approaching.

Cassandra saw her sisters first who were bouncing around like hyper guinea-pigs.

"Ladies what did I tell you about running in the hou…"

However her question was cut short when she finally took notice of who was there. A hand came up to her throat grey eyes opened wide taking in his familiar face and figure.

"Cassie look who's in town. He had a concert here yesterday and we met by coincidence when I brought the notes back to Frank and as his flight is only leaving tomorrow I whisked him away and brought him over."

Cordelia beamed at her daughter and he went to the woman he had known for all of her life smiling at her astonished face.

"Ciao cara."

--O--

"I hate days like these." The door opened to reveal a grumbling Richard.

"The coffee machine is broken, the biscuits are hard and Mary is working part-time on Thursdays."

Dracula had to hide a grin. His business partner looked ready to tear his hair out.

"Shall we postpone the meeting Richard?"

"No no. I just hate that I can't offer you something else besides water and stale tea…" suddenly his face lit up. "TEA! That's it. Why don't we change the location and ambush my daughter? If I know Cass she has tea ready in about forty-five minutes. If we hurry we can make it. I'll just need to get a hold of Deli as she has the limousine…and the driver that comes with it."

"I don't think that's necessary. I've parked my car in your subterranean garage. Didn't you tell me that you wanted to try out its horsepower?"

Richard's eyes gleamed.

--O--

The plate with the cookies looked delicious and a small hand snaked out to steal one without the others noticing. It wouldn't be hard. After all, mother and three of her older siblings were seated at the other end of the parlour talking excitedly to their guest and so the fingers made to grab one of the biscuits.

"Stephanie!"

The voice cracked like a whip and the youngest jerked her hand back guiltily looking up into the icy face of Cassandra who had just re-entered the room with a tray of tea.

"I think it's possible for you to wait five more minutes!"

All eyes raised to Cass unused to her biting tone.

"I need to get more hot water. Leave the pastries alone!"

She spun on her heels in direction of the kitchens. At the other end of the parlour a mouth twisted into a cruel smirk.

--O--

"Bloody brilliant."

Richard was still exclaiming over the SLR and the driving experience when the two men ascended the outer stairs to the entrance door.

"Isn't it?"

The butler had vanished again and so Dracula grasped the handle and threw the doors open for his business partner.

A startled gasp followed by the clatter of porcelain was heard as the door met Cassandra and the tray coming back from the kitchen. In an instant the Count was in front of her grasping the tray preventing it from falling. Yet he was not able to prevent some of the hot water splashing out of its jug spilling onto the back of the female's right hand.

"Good Lord Miss Graham."

He swiftly set the salver aside on a table and turned to the woman who cradled her hand to her chest lips pressed together as the pain of the burn washed over her.

"I'm terribly sorry. Here let me see."

Dracula carefully attempted to pry her hand from her chest to observe the injury and maybe find a chance to secretly heal it when something unusual happened. Cassandra snapped at him.

"I'm fine. There's no need to worry. Just look where you are going next time Sir, I beg you, and I might actually have a chance to survive your visits if you do."

To say he was shocked would have been an understatement. Incredulously he gazed down at her but before he got his wits back to respond, Grace descended the stairs.

"Cassie? Are you all right? You look pale?"

The soft voice of her sister seemed to merely antagonize the woman more as her voice sounded just short of snarling.

"Indeed I am. Get the tray Grace and begin serving. And take the men with you. I need to tend to my hand."

Without further justification she turned and retreated to where she had come from.

The two men and the girl looked at each other as if to find out what had just happened.

"She did not even greet me."

Richard sounded almost hurt.

Grace went to the table where Dracula had put the tray and picked it up.

"Maybe she's just nervous. Her old piano teacher came over for a visit. Or better mother met him and brought him." She smiled at her father and the Count.

"We are in the spring parlour.

The father's eyebrows raised and a grin began to make his way on his lips, the lapse of his oldest daughter momentarily forgotten.

"Baldone's here?"

When the teenager nodded he began to laugh.

"Oh dear the day is getting even better. Follow slowly Gracie we wouldn't want to have you burned, too. Come Count. I want you to meet someone."

With that began to move towards the drawing room where he knew the others would be his pace increasing when laughing could be made out.

Hollering an "Afternoon everybody!" Richard entered the salon Dracula walking next to him.

Seated between Cordelia and Theresa was a man that, even the Count had to admit, was handsome. Eyes the colour of coffee regarded them with outright interest before the stranger stood up to greet the older male. His movements betrayed the predator inside but he held himself with a grace that was only reserved for those who had been bred with it. High cheekbones and a proud chin gave him the appearance of royalty.

"Baldone!"

They did not shake hands but embraced each other before Richard stepped back to regard the man in front of him with wonder.

"Gracious! You still look like bloody forty. Care to tell me how you do it?"

The stranger laughed his velvet baritone filling Dracula's ears

"Thank you for making me ten years younger Ricardo. I'm deeply flattered. How are you old chap? Still building brick walls for the upper crust?"

"You bet man you bet! After all money doesn't grow on trees yet. And you I presume are still jingling on the piano keys?"

Richard was beaming at the tall man in front of him and it never seemed to occur to him that he had forgotten his business partner. It was his wife who called him out on it.

"Darling. You are neglecting our other guest." Standing up from the couch she went to greet the Count and while he bowed over her hand he felt the gaze of the foreigner.

"Cordelia. A delight as always."

"Count how nice to welcome you in to our home again."

She motioned to the man in front of her husband.

"If I may introduce the gentlemen? Count this is Domenico Baldone from Italy, composer and pianist." After she had repeated the process with him Dracula finally shook hands with the person he now knew to be Cassandra's old piano instructor, the long fingers closing around his in a firm grip.

"Count Dragulia. It's a pleasure to meet you; I've heard much about you."

The Italian's smile seemed honest and Dracula answered it with one of his own.

"Really? Only good things I hope Signore."

"Just the best. I have to tell you I admire you. Someone who can cure her from her press phobia should be recommended for the Nobel Prize."

Baldone pointed over the Count's shoulder to Cassandra who walked into the room raising her eyebrows at hearing the last words.

"The one for chemistry or the one for physics?" Cool eyes measured her former teacher whose answer came instantly.

"The one for world peace cara."

Dracula felt himself stiffen at the pet name. Cara. Dear. What right did this man have to speak so intimately to the woman? Miss Graham herself, as well as the rest of the room's inhabitants, however, seemed unfazed by the term and so he let it go for now; besides his senses discerned no immediate danger from the other male.

He turned to face her, immediately noticing the bandage around her right hand where the hot water had met the skin and he opened his mouth to apologize again.

"Miss Graham…"

Cassandra held up the same hand to stop him. The usual pleasant expression was back on her face and her previous mood seemed to have changed making her appear to be her normal self again.

"Please Sir let's not speak further about it. It actually looks worse than it is, the bandage is only to prevent the salve from getting somewhere else than where it should be."

Meeting him where he stood she looked up at him with a gentle smile.

"It's getting better already."

Before he could make his doubt known Cordelia stepped to her child and examined the dressing.

"What happened?"

Dracula explained how he had run into her daughter.

"You poor dear. I know from experience how much a burn can hurt. Nevertheless I can't help but wonder what you did to make the Gods bestow this upon you."

Baldone gazed at her hand pityingly.

Cassandra motioned to the settees where her sisters were following the things happening like an avid theatre audience and for the moment refused to answer the question.

"Why don't the gentlemen get seated so we can serve the tea?"

Only when the three males had sat down and she, together with her mother, had handed them the cups with the hot liquid did she come back to the topic.

""For your information Signore I didn't do anything."

The Italian laughed.

"And doesn't that sound familiar? The last time I listened to you saying this you were ten and sitting in between a pile of books that had rained down from the shelves in your grandparent's library. Though…wait a moment…"

He furrowed his brows pondering over something.

"I think I heard that sentence once more after that event. Yet I can't remember where and when."

The sly look he sent her however told otherwise and Cassandra raised her chin.

"A memory like Swiss cheese…wasn't that how you referred to it before?"

Before Baldone could respond Theresa joined the conversation.

"You said Cassie was sitting in a pile of books?"

"Indeed I did."

The grin on the other man's face became even more teasing than it already was and the Count observed him turning to the girls.

"I don't know if you are aware of it Signorine but your oldest sister here is very accident-prone. Be it falling books, hot water or a swimming pool inconveniently placed in her path, Cassandra will find a way to hurt herself."

Hiding a small chuckle Dracula had to think about the "accidents" that had happened just a day ago.

"A swimming pool?"  
Raphaela leaned forward clearly interested in the tale.

"What, she didn't tell you about that mishap?"

Baldone's smirk widened.

"No she didn't. Cassie doesn't speak much about her time in France." Amelia sounded a bit disappointed and all eyes turned to the oldest daughter who silently sat in her chair watching the scene as if it wasn't her they were talking about.

"Really? Well then let me indulge you a bit; after all, I've known your sister since she was born. You wanted to know about the swimming-pool incident non è vero?

Teacup in hand, the man next to Cordelia made himself comfortable.

"Signore don't you dare!"

Despite its tranquillity Cassandra's voice held a certain undertone that Dracula had only heard once; when she had been reprimanding Damien.

"Aw cara don't be such a spoilsport. I think they have a right to know." The Italian turned to his eager audience.

"When your sister was six she thought it a good idea to play dress-up with one of her grandmother's ball-gowns. Never mind that the gown was worth more than the monthly salary of an insurance-broker. So she got herself into the dress, dipped more than generously into the make-up palettes of her nonna, too, put on some too big high heels and pranced around the house."

At this point everyone was hanging onto the pianist's lips, even Dracula couldn't help but listen avidly. Here he was meeting someone who could tell him more of Cassandra; someone who seemed to know the woman even better than her own sister's; someone who had the chance to see her grow up and develop into the lady she was today.

Baldone continued.

"She finally arrived at the inside swimming-pool. Don't ask me if she stumbled or what exactly did happen. All I know was that her grandparents and I had been in the parlour when we heard a shriek and a splash. We raced down to the pool and there was your sister resembling a drowned poodle. A servant had fished her out."

His gaze met Cassandra's whose cheeks were burning.

"I still recall how the Signora reacted. She was furious and I was afraid she would emasculate me on the spot for not being able to stop laughing."

Richard groaned in memory.

"Well it certainly wasn't a rare mood with Bea. My mother-in-law always found some thing or other she could complain about."

His wife sighed.

"Indeed. But I remember the episode. When I came home that evening I got an earful about how my child behaved that day." Her pitying eyes swept over her daughter.

"Didn't she punish you Cassie?"

The younger woman nodded upon her mother's enquiry.

"Yes she did. One month without piano lessons."

"You call that punishment?"

The expression on Stephanie's face was hilarious. Befuddled she stared at the grown-ups who wanted her to make-believe someone actually could be sad about not having to endure a teacher criticising one's playing.

"For your sister it was."

Baldone suddenly became serious.

"I never had a more determined pupil…nor a more accomplished one."

Cassandra reddened even more.

"Signore I don't think you do your other students justice."

"Come on cara you know how good you were. It's a pity that you are not playing anymore." He sent her bandaged hand an annoyed look.

"And now you are unable to do even the right hand."

"You should know, Baldone, that I wouldn't play even if I wasn't burned. I never do things by half. As in regards to your students; I may have played well yet there were others who played even better and you know that. Or is Marius Rizzo not filling huge concert halls while travelling the world? If I remember correctly you were his instructor, too."

Her response was delivered calmly and Dracula had a feeling she actually enjoyed the repartees.

The Italian groaned at her speech.

"Heaven's woman do you always have to disagree with me?"

"I'm not disagreeing I'm merely pointing out facts Signore."

Cassandra began to smile and Baldone grimaced dragging his fingers through his dark brown hair which was only sprinkled by a few grey strands here and there.

"Little shrew. I liked you better docile, cara."

"When have I ever been docile around _you_?"

"When you were sleeping!" Was the silky riposte.

Three things happened at once. Nefer choked on her tea, her oldest sister's blush returned full force and Cordelia laughed so hard a tear ran down her cheek.

"Oh you two. Meeting again after six years and instantly you begin with your old games. I believe this is the Signore's point Cassie."

"Games?" The Count couldn't help but remark on it having watched the crossing of verbal blades with interest. Obviously the pianist brought a side out of Miss Graham that he himself still had to explore.

"Games. Those two would try to one up each other with witty comments. The one who could not find an answer instantly lost and the point went to the other. It was the reason for more than one amusing evening."

Cordelia happily told him what she had meant while the instructor and his ex- student were still staring at each other.

"When did you see her sleeping Signore?"

Of course it was Nefer who asked yet it was her mother who delivered the answer to that question, too.

"Cassie often fell asleep when Baldone was playing. She would clamber up in his lap when he was sitting at the piano, demand that he played one of the classics and while he did she would doze of." The older woman turned to Cassandra. "You were only three at the time I don't know if you remember."

"If she doesn't I do." The Italian made himself known again.

"I still find it impressive that so small a child had already made up her mind which music she liked and which she hated. Later I literally had to beat the modern composers into her head with a stick and whenever I played them she would complain till I switched to Bach, Mozart, Beethoven or even Chopin. But then she was practically purring in my lap."

The room erupted in laughter and Dracula found himself being amused alongside the others. He had to admit he liked the piano teacher. The man displayed a certain kind of humour that struck a right cord within the Count.

Time flew by in the progress of more chatting and although Baldone and Cassandra refrained from continuing their game of wits the remainder of the afternoon was soon over.

Cordelia had asked their two male guests to stay for dinner and both of them had agreed which was the reason why they were all seated around the table in the dining room enjoying the main course.

The conversation had not ebbed away, the parents, Baldone and Miss Graham lost in old memories while he and the younger siblings were observing; the girls appeared to be just as intrigued by the Italian as he was.

It was only when they came to the topic of the Count's visit in June that the atmosphere changed. Dracula had just remarked on Cassandra's voice and the woman's diffidence had kicked in.

"Please Sir I'm not a René Flemming."

"That might be right Miss Graham, yet technique isn't everything when it comes to opera. Feeling is what's needed and feeling is what's more than palpable in your singing." He told her gently.

Heavily blushing yet another time the woman wanted to try and object however she never had a chance to do so.

"And there it is what we all have been waiting for: that damnable modesty. For Heaven's sake cara, why can't you just accept a compliment when it's given."

The man's voice was condescending and Dracula found himself waiting for the female's response. Obviously he wasn't alone with that because the rest of the family switched their gazes back and forth between student and former teacher.

"Just because you have been standing in line for arrogance when humility was given out doesn't mean I have to throw my manner's overboard."

She sat there like a queen with her back so straight that the Count thought it would break if she tightened her posture just a bit more. Her sister's were gasping when she delivered her counter but Baldone appeared indifferent.

"Manner's are fair enough but you cara go too far in trying to stay humble. I think my arrogance has brought me further in life than I would have come with your modesty in tow."

"It might have, yet I can't help but wonder how many people had to suffer because you displayed your non-reticence."

They were regarding each other over the table like duellists.

"Oh not again. Please cease your game over dinner, will you?"

The patronizing yet kind tone of Cordelia washed over them making the man and the woman relinquish the hold their eyes had and when Richard asked his daughter to hand him the sauce boat everything seemed to be fine again.

However the Count couldn't help but feel as if he was stuck in the midst of a puzzle where most of the pieces were missing. The senses that had been lying dormant until now suddenly peeked, wanting to reach out to the Italian but Dracula quenched them. Not at this moment. Most likely he read more into the situation than what was meant. As Grace had remarked a few hours ago, Cassandra was probably still nervous and understandably so.

He would have been anxious too if he met someone who had known him from birth and who had played a huge role in his life before. As he had heard this afternoon Baldone had been a student under Maestro Dumont having been a part of the conductors own orchestra and practically living in the house of Cordelia's father during his twenties.

Desert was brought and just before they finished the meal the Italian's voice came up once more.

"So you two…how is it? Any grandchildren on the way?"

The question directed at Richard and his wife drew the Count's attention from his own thoughts back to the table and the foreigner who had uttered it while, strangely enough, raising his gaze back to the oldest daughter.

Her father answered the question with a funny "Well not until recently but anything can happen during a honeymoon." before the conversation dove into the topic of Damien and Maeve, With the family's attention held elsewhere, no one but the Count noticed how Miss Graham gripped a spoon so hard her knuckles turned white as she stared at the pianist.

The man's eyes narrowed in pleasure over her ashen skin tone and a peculiar smirk appeared in the corner of his mouth that could only be described with one word in Dracula's mind. Cruel.

His senses roared again to be let free and find out what the others could not see but at this moment Cordelia took the opportunity to rise from the table declaring that coffee would be served in the parlour they had occupied before.

"Please excuse me for a minute. I need to take a look at my hand." With a smile that appeared strained to the Count, Cassandra vanished into the darkness of the hallway.

On their way to the drawing room the Italian suddenly stopped.

"If you will excuse me, too, I have to use the men's room."

Richard grinned.

"You still know where it is?"

"Honestly Ricardo it has been six years not sixty."

With a teasing wink Baldone turned into the direction Dracula knew the bathroom was situated while they group of eight retreated to the salon.

--O--

The gloomy light of the room seemed to sooth her taut nerves a bit. Forcing herself to take deep calming breaths Cassandra began to unwrap the bandage around her right hand. She actually felt sorry for snapping at the Count when the accident had occurred. Yet she couldn't have helped it at the moment. Baldone had always been able to bring out the extremes in her - both the positive and negative ones. Tonight obviously he wanted to test her boundaries in the direction of the negative ones.

Just a few weeks ago Cassie had thought that no man had irritated her before like the Count had. Apparently she had forgotten about the Signore at that time.

Steps approached. They were familiar yet too heavy to belong to a female, too well-known to belong to a servant or the Count and too foreign to belong to her father. Feeling dread take a grip of her heart Cassandra looked at the doorway.

--O--

Swiftly moving along the hallways of Graham Manor Dracula followed the faint smell of the oldest daughter's perfume that, even now lingered in the air; undetectable to mere mortals but more than obvious to his heightened senses. He had left the others in the parlour wanting to seek out Miss Graham to offer his help with her hand, still feeling a bit guilty for having marred her skin. Maybe he would now be able to heal the burn a bit without having her notice.

Turning another corner he suddenly halted when he heard the voice of the man he had only just gotten to know this afternoon. Silently he crept nearer till he got a view of Baldone and the object of his own search standing in a room that seemed to be a meeting room of the staff. A sturdy oak table took up most of the area surrounded by just as sturdy chairs. Cassandra had placed a first aid kit on its surface.

Standing in front of the table, a few meters to her right was the Signore, observing her with burning eyes. Dracula was able to see them without being seen, spying them via a mirror which hung at just the right angle so he could watch the whole room through the open door.

"You've grown up cara and very delightfully so. I liked you as a child. I like you as a teenager. But now in your twenties…I have to say I'm impressed. I almost regret not having seen you in the last years."

Something in the voice of the Italian made Dracula reach out with his powers at last.

_Limbs tangled, lips met white skin, blonde hair spilled over blue sheets when the young woman beneath him threw her head back in bliss…"Cara."_

It wasn't a fantasy. It was a memory and the Count drew a sharp breath, some of the missing puzzle pieces clicking together in his head. Those two had been lovers and now the sleeping-comment the pianist had expressed a few hours ago got an entirely new meaning. Cursing himself for his stupidity and blindness in front of something so evident he observed the scene playing out in the mirror.

"You know I don't like obsequiousness Signore." Unimpressed Cassandra opened the cover of the first aid kit.

"That modesty again." Baldone scoffed and took a step towards her leaning next to her on the table

"But to indulge you, I will change the topic. What is this I hear about you and a certain Count?"

Dracula perked up. It seemed the conversation could get even more interesting.

"I don't know. What did you hear?"

She opened the cap of the tube.

"I think you know what I'm talking about. The grapevine is buzzing with excitement!"

"Ah. Weren't you the one that told me once upon a time that gossip is nothing for grown men?"

"I see you are still the headstrong little thing you always were."

The Italian shook his head and finally Cassandra looked up at the tall man standing at her side.

"Maybe it's you who has changed then?"

"Me? HAH! Give me five minutes and I'll have you purring."

It was clear that he did not refer to his piano skills this time as he reached out to her with the intention of touching her hair. Cassandra however swiftly moved her head so his fingers stroked only air.

"You will kindly maintain your distance Signore!"

Pure ice was dripping from her voice and her former teacher gazed at her with a mix of surprise and mockery.

"There have been times when you craved my touch cara. I wonder when this changed."

Cassandra turned to fully face him.

"You wonder? Well then I'll have you know it changed the night you told me to get rid of our daughter!"

A horrible feeling coursed though the Count's stomach. She had been pregnant?

Baldone gave a short laugh.

"Come now cara don't be sentimental. A daughter….a bunch of cells would be more correct."

Straightening her posture even more the woman drew herself up to pierce him with her grey pupils.

"Allow me to inform you, Signore, that I was in my thirteenth week when I came to you that night and had just been informed two days earlier that we would have a girl. Early but not impossible, the physician was surprised himself but he was able to tell me."

She gazed back to the tube of salve, never seeing what Dracula saw. Baldone blanched before he gripped her upper arm directing her attention to him once more.

"Thirteenth week? You should have told me!" His voice resembled a growl sounding dangerously low while he stared at the petite woman in front of him whose mouth opened in bewilderment.

"Told you? But I did. I tried. I explained to you that I was pregnant. I did not expect you to be happy but at least I thought you were able to cope with it like an adult. But you, you accused me of sleeping with another man, you insulted me and my faithfulness just because of a stupid tabloid article, just because I was seen by some paparazzi when Marius took me out for a dinner between friends."

The Count suddenly remembered something mentioned in the article written by Greenwood.

_-Why would a young woman who has everything, a loving family, a sweet boyfriend (PoA reported) and not to forget money, try to kill herself?-_

A sweet boyfriend. Obviously the press had mucked it up again. And obviously Baldone had drawn the wrong conclusion. Clearly the man was as possessive as he himself was.

"You _dare_ to mention his name! I let it go when you did in front of your family but you shouldn't test my patience further _cara_."

The endearment appeared more like a threat this time and Dracula thought about intervening. However Cassandra continued speaking and so he stood back waiting for a more opportune moment to interrupt, one that might even work to the advantage of his undertaking.

"Still jealous because I got along with him? I told you I didn't do anything. But you did not believe me, telling me that you never would accept the child of another man. And then…" If possible her voice got even calmer and Dracula could not help but think that this woman had more control in her small body than she was given credit for.

"And then you said that even if it was yours, you were at the peak of your career and a child from a student would just hinder you. You told me to get rid of our baby Signore. And now you expect me to have waited patiently while you were throwing all of this at my head and explain? You did not listen the first time. I humbly predict that you would not have listened to a second attempt of mine, either."

Closing her eyes for a short moment she futilely tried to get rid of the memories boiling up inside her head.

"I don't believe you." In spite of her speech Baldone seemed sceptical, yet there was a soft shudder in his tone that notified the Count that this man was only hanging onto a bare thread of hope that it hadn't been his child.

"You couldn't have hidden a pregnancy for so long."

A quick, sad laugh escaped Cassandra's lips.

"Domenico. I kept our whole affair secret for almost two years as you wished of me, so you wouldn't lose your female fans. What are thirteen weeks of being pregnant to that? I certainly never invited witnesses to my bouts of morning sickness. I wanted you to know first, seeing as you were the father."

She sighed.

"You are still unconvinced aren't you? Well then let me tell you something else. Marius Rizzo would be more likely interested in you than he would be in my person. He is gay; he always has been, even six years ago when we had dinner together. And if you still don't believe me calculate. Because a bit more than three months before I came to you we attended the opening night of "La Traviata" where you, _Signore,_ were not patient enough to wait till we got home."

The Italian's face contorted into a scowl and Dracula knew that the last thread of hope had been torn apart by her monologue. Yet he still did not make his presence known. There was also the fate of the child to be considered. As there was no six-year-old running around the house, there were only two options as to what had happened. He feared to think about both of them. His suspicions were confirmed by Baldone's next words.

"You lost our baby. For Goodness sake woman you lost our child!"

Dark eyes blazing he gripped her shoulders.

"You sent me the letter informing me of your accident knowing full well that it was our child that was killed?"

With a jerk she got out of his hold and stepped back from the fuming man.

"Do you think I chose to fall down the stairs? Do you think I wanted that miscarriage? I was in hospital for more than five weeks thinking that I had lost a daughter every minute I was laying in that bed. However why are you complaining? Weren't you the one telling me to get rid of the foetus? It should be to your liking that I never gave birth."

She was trembling now. Just slightly but it was noticeable.

"I would have come to my senses sooner or later." Pointing an accusing finger into her face the Italian seemed to try to get a grip on his sanity. It was remarkable to watch.

"It was your duty to take care of the child within you. Our child. You knew my temper cara you knew that sooner or later I'd calm down and accept that we were going to be parents. However it was your responsibility to protect and to care. But no, you had to fall down the bloody staircase."

The Count couldn't believe what he was hearing. The man surely was a master at twisting words. If not for the graveness of the topic he would have applauded him.

Cassandra felt as if he had slapped her. Taking deep calming breaths she abruptly recalled when she woke up in the hospital bed.

_The lights were hurting her eyes and so she swiftly closed her lids only to open them again after a few seconds. The room was devoid of people the only sounds coming from a machine next to the bed. Feeling fuzzy she tried to remember what had happened when her gaze fell on the bandage around her left arm. And suddenly she knew. With a wail she threw back the blanket just to be confronted with her flat stomach an empty feeling filling her entire self. When the nurses finally flew into the room Cassandra was screaming._

Dracula saw something change in Miss Graham's expression. Incredulously he stared at the image the mirror presented him expecting her to cry.

She didn't. There was not even a choke in her voice.

"If it makes you feel better, then please, feel free to blame it on me Signore. I'm blaming myself enough as it is…your accusations are nothing against my own."

The woman diverted her eyes back to the forgotten tube on the table eventually grasping it to get some salve on her burn.

"It's been over for so long. It doesn't matter anymore if you lay the fault with me."

Her resigned words seemed to calm Baldone down, too, his attitude changing from enraged to cool once more. However as the Count's powers stretched out he sensed something else. Spite.

"Yes indeed you are right. It has been over for so long. Which brings me back to the original topic, the one we had before this…memory of the past. The topic of the Count and you."

With a vindictive sneer on his lips, the Italian stepped behind Cassandra placing his hands at each side next to her body on the table trapping her.

"He is a nice fellow isn't he?"  
His breath caressed her neck and Cassandra felt the trembling that had left just a few moments ago come back.

"And he is nobility. European nobility and as far as I know, they all want someone to continue their line. Tell me cara, did you tell him your little secret?"

Dracula frowned. What was the man talking about? The blonde woman appeared to be just as confused as he was.

Baldone continued, his tone becoming more malicious with each passing second.

"The man surely wants an heir from the woman he will someday marry. Have you told him yet, cara, that the miscarriage rendered you unable to give him one? That you are not able to bear children?"

With a soft cry she spun to face him again.

"How do you….no one..!" Her ability to speak failed her and the tremors increased. The male in front of her smirked down at her shocked self; satisfaction emanating him.

"I have my connections. I explained it to you years ago, cara. I'll always be a step ahead of you. You never were good at playing chess."

His hand came up to caress her cheek in a mocking show of tenderness.

"So you have not told him yet. Shouldn't you though? I think he has a right to know if things get serious between you and him. Nevertheless I can't help but wonder…would he still be able to love you if you told him?"

Gathering the last strength she had Cassandra turned her back on him only to have him whispering more poisoning phrases into her ear.

"I'm flying back to Italy tomorrow. Pack your things and come with me, cara. I know you, you know me and we both know what to expect of each other. My touch is already branded into your skin, cara mia, I was, after all, your first."

"Step back Signore."

It was said almost inaudible. Baldone only had his finger slip over her collarbone in response.

"Let me go, please."

Louder this time. Yet the Italian refused to comply his right hand finding the cloth of her skirt dragging it up slowly.

"Domenico lâchez-moi."

The plead was uttered in French which was always a sign that she had lost control over her thinking, yet his temper flared again because of her defiance.

With a snarl he grasped Cassandra's hand and twisted her around. It was the wrong thing to do.

She gave a yelp when his grip met the burn before suddenly she felt him step away from her a sharp voice making itself known.

"Signore I believe the lady asked you to unhand her."

Dracula's eyes were shining in an almost unearthly blue, despite his composed demeanour. When the woman had cried out in pain he had not been able to wait any longer and had entered the room quickly, now standing on the left side of the table three feet away from the pair.

The pianist was regarding him with an unreadable expression before looking down at Cassandra releasing her injured hand.

"Nous terminerons cette conversation plus tard."

(We will finish this conversation later.)

The cruel smile never leaving his lips, he walked to the door, the Count watching his every move.

Just when the other man crossed the threshold Dracula spoke once more.

"Non, si je peux aider."

(Not if I can help it.)

The Italian's back stiffened for a moment before he left; the Romanian listening to the retreat till Baldone was finally gone. Only then did he turn back to the woman at the table. And his eyes widened.

She was shaking like a leaf. Her small form wracked by the trembling, her breath coming in short gasps. Cass clutched the blouse in front of her chest with her left. Her lids were tightly pressed together as if not seeing would help to drone out the pain that came from within her and suddenly the Count realized that he was seeing a normally deeply hidden side of Cassandra. Her vulnerable one.

"Miss Graham?"

The instant he addressed her, the petite body gave way to the quivers and collapsed. Being just fast enough to catch her under her arms before her knees would meet the stone tiles, he went down with her while her small hands grasped the cloth of his shirt and jacket for support.

Her eyes were still closed and in between ragged breaths she mumbled incoherent things in French and English.  
"Je…I tried….pas les deux…I couldn't…je n'ai pas pu….not both…not both…"

Dracula could not make out head or tail of her words. However exploring the meaning of them would have to wait until later.

With one swift movement he had gathered her up from the floor into his arms carrying her out of the room.

"Sir…please…no…too heavy."

Cassandra's almost incoherent protests fell on deaf ears as he quickly walked along the corridor.

"You need air Miss Graham. Fresh air if possible; the air in here is much too oppressive. And you weigh no more than a feather."

He let his voice slide over her mind soothingly and felt her going soft in his hold. Although having no direct idea about his destination the Romanian followed his instinct, which was leading him to a slide-door that his foot carefully opened.

It was a conservatory. He entered with his light burden, the glass walls and ceiling of the room giving a view to the night outside. Spying a white couch in the corner he approached the spot, when the female in his arms spoke again - a bit feeble still, but noticeably stronger than before.

"Please Sir. Let me down I beg you."

"Miss Graham, are you sure?"

She insisted and two steps away from the chaise lounge he set her on her feet expecting her to take a seat.

Yet she seemed to have other ideas. On wobbly legs she went to a glass door leading to a tiny terrace and the gardens. Grasping the handle Cassandra opened it under the watchful eyes of Dracula.

The cool night air hit her when she walked outside and her knees began to buckle once more. Having already sensed it the Count caught her another time, wrapping his arms around her.

"Really Miss Graham you should sit down."

Only after she seemed to be quite steady did he start to release her, when she suddenly grasped his wrist.

"Please…could you…just for a bit?"

Grey pupils gazing pleadingly at him, she looked like a lost child and he knew what she meant. His arms wound back around her small waist, holding her as they stood on the small veranda.

Her palms were lying flat on his chest her left cheek pressed between them, practically clinging to him, wanting nothing more than the consolation of a human touch. Staring into the darkness surrounding them, Cassandra obviously seemed to ponder over what had happened and suddenly it occurred to him how good it felt to give her the comfort she needed. How good she felt in his arms.

Unconsciously tightening his embrace Dracula brought her closer to his body if that was even possible. She didn't seem to mind. Only a small sigh left her lips.

Snuggling further into the Count's embrace, Cassandra hoped against hope that he would not notice. She felt safer now than she had in a long time. The tall man holding her close soothing her with his presence was something she could get used to.

Out of its own accord, his hand began to caress her back. The trembling that had brought her to her knees had ceased a bit and he suspected the small shivers her body still issued came from the chilly air.

"Miss Graham?"

"Mh?"

He actually had to smile at her "eloquence". How charming.

"Aren't you cold?"

The question was all it took for her sense of propriety to come back. Mortified her gaze met his.

"Oh God Sir, I'm so sorry I don't know what came over me."

In what little light shone from inside the conservatory he could see her ashamed expression. Rolling his eyes he prevented her from leaving his arms by fastening the hold he had on her.

"Will you hush now, my dear? Or do I have to find other ways to cease your apologies to me? "

One of his hands came up to softly caress her cheek, the thumb moving over her cheekbone before guiding her head back to his chest. Caressing her hair, he softly rocked her.

"Sometimes one has to be held to become strong again. To acknowledge and accept moments of weakness…therein lays real strength. You can't always be tough Miss Graham."

"But…"

Cassandra wanted to raise her head again but his hand prevented it.

"Shh. It's all right."

A soft pressure descended on the parting of her hair and suddenly she began to wonder if it were his lips. Out of their own accord her arms slipped around his waist when after a few minutes of silence his voice sounded again.

"May I ask you a question Miss Graham?"

"Certainly Sir."

He smelled delicious. There was the distinct smell of his cologne, but there was also a fine layer of the detergent his shirt and suit had been cleaned with, the familiar scent of coffee and cigars, and something else. Something deep below all of it, that was so primal, so male that it had Cassandra's mouth watering.

"Who knows?"

These two simple words brought her back to reality faster than a bulldozer waltzing down the Manor would have and she stiffened. Immediately the hand that had stroked her hair flittered over her shoulders trying to ease the tension.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me if…"  
"No one does."

A short statement but it interrupted Dracula effectively. With astonished eyes he looked down at the woman who once more had buried her cheek in his shirt. He could not believe it. When she had said in the kitchen that she had kept everything a secret he would not have thought that she really meant it. In his experience females always had to share everything with at least one other female. His brides had been the perfect example for that with their constant chatter and talking. Yet his senses did not detect a lie.

"You have not told anybody? Not even your mother?"

The Count had to ask.

"I couldn't. I don't want to be pitied."

With a small smile he took note that she did not use the past tense. So much pride in such a tiny woman. Dracula knew why she had done it. Better to carry a heavy burden alone than to appear weak. Normally this was more the men's way of coping with life however it made perfect sense with Cassandra. It all came back to the subject of control.

"Pity, Miss Graham, should never be mistaken with comfort."

Sliding his finger over her jaw he found her chin lifting it up so he could see her face, two pools of dusty grey shining in a mix of misery, hope and resignation.

"You kept silent for so long and I swear by my honour your secrets won't leave my lips. But allow yourself to be given some comfort."

A slight nod and a change in her eyes were her answer. He admitted to himself that he was curious about her earlier words, which were still puzzling to him. "_I couldn't save …not both..." _What both? Had there been twins? But no, she surely would have told Baldone if that had been the case.

Opening his mouth to question her it suddenly occurred to him that he behaved like a cretin.

Here he was with the woman he wanted to conquer in his arms, cuddling up to him like a kitten seeking warmth. Time and time again he had told himself in the past few weeks that she needed to trust him. And now that she seemed to have opened up to him more than he could have hoped, he found himself dangerously close to demolishing it because he was too nosy. Wasn't it enough that she allowed him to embrace her, to see her vulnerable? Did he really need to know what her words, spoken in distress, meant?

No. He could gather that knowledge later he decided for himself. A soft tremble ran through the body in front of him.

"Let's get you inside Miss Graham before you freeze to death."

She did not refuse him this time. He reluctantly let go of her before leading her back into the conservatory a supporting hand at her waist the whole time.

Just passing over the threshold both of them made an attempt to grasp the handle of the glass door their hands bumping together.

"Nghn."

Although silent the noise of her discomfort reached his ears and the guilt that had made him wander the hallways before returned.

Gently he took her right hand in his observing the red mark on its back in the dim light of the room.

"Miss Graham there has to be something I can do to make it better. Shall I blow on it maybe? Tell me, please!"

The expression on his face was of such a comical despair that Cassandra had to laugh. How nice he was to be concerned for her.

Finally, the soft smile that was familiar, now was lingering around her lips again and Dracula was almost glad for that.

"Well Sir if you really want to help me out…" She did not finish but cocked her head observing him with certain curiosity.

"Yes Miss Graham? Speak freely for if you don't give me a hint as to what to do I might just try to kiss it better."

His eyes twinkled merrily when as soon as he had said it he felt her trying to get her hand out of his grasp.

"I assure you Sir that is not necessary. However if you'd be so kind as to retrieve the salve and maybe the bandage for me I'd be most obliged."

Sighing inwardly that she had really found an answer to his offer he led her to the white couch in the corner and gestured for her to sit down.

"All right Miss Graham. No standing up, no short-breathing, no collapsing and definitely no thinking for the next few minutes."

She looked up at him trustingly, her smile deepening when he gave his orders.

Holding her gaze he reached out.

"I'll be back in an instant."

After smoothing a long finger down her cheek the Count turned on his heel leaving the room without looking back at the astonished female on the settee.

Cassandra stared at the door even after it had closed behind him. Bringing her left hand up to touch her cheek in wonder before it trailed the path his touch had taken and suddenly it occurred to her that this was a man she could certainly fall in love with.

* * *

Hello everybody. No your eyes don't deceive you. I uploaded two parts as this is a huuuuge chapter. Yet I did not want to part it into two chapters and so you now get much to read in one update. Am I not nice?

I have to admit I'm really proud of myself for writing his. It'S totally different from what I first planned. Not only is it a "new" chapter (I explained in chap.9) but after a very long talk to Nienna it also went through some huge modifications. Now I'm glad I did them but first I was too cowardly and lazy to even think about writing something like the chapter you have just read. A big thank you to Nienna, again, for getting me back on earth.

Thank you to all those who did review the last chapter.

Kairi's-twin: Not only Jonathan is trouble yet I think the Count is more than capable to putt hem all back in their place. So here's the update…not soon…but at least not too late I think?

Remember: Darling. He's yours. Do with him what you want I don't care as long as he comes back in one piece…and you tell me how it was. Grin. Sorry. I blame my hormones for having many smutty ideas. Not that you'd complain I think? LU

twilightalcoholic92: Do I get a HOOORAY? I did, after all, update. Grin. It's true one never has both paper AND a pen. As it is inspiration often hits me at work. And when I now tell you I'm always working an eight to ten hours shift on Saturday then you know how frustrated I sometimes am. Yes please…share my pain…at least someone does. Like the chapter?

The One And Only Charcoal: Sooo….confuzzled this time? (Yes I'm childish but I loooove the word.) Or are you pleased? Or both? Tell me? Oh and….don't get your hopes up too high, devotion to the story plot or not…the man is, after all, the master of seduction and one-night-stands. Never forget what he is. La Di Da. No I'm not telling you more…Yes I'm evil.

ForeverACharmedOne: Hey! Waves. How are you? I did not answer your last PM I think…oh I'm such a procrastinator. Forgive me? I hope this is pleasing you! After all it has drama…

Jas120: Thank you again for your review. I hope you like this chapter. Tell me?

Memory from a dream: Hehe. Secret lifted…as to whom she was talking in that preview. So here's the update. I'd love to hear your opinion.

Alucards-Master: Well…it has been a bit more than one hour. But I updated. Tell me how you liked it?

And again a big thank you to the people above. I know I'm repeating myself quite often but I can't say enough how much I adore your reviews. They are always putting me in a very high-spirited mood. There is no better drug.

So now I ask you to tell me your opinion of this really long chapter. You don't need to review each part on it's own…although if you would do that I'd be more than delighted. But no pressure. Just tell me your opinion. I'm eagerly waiting over here.

I don't know if I'll be able to update before Christmas but I will do my best and certainly try. After all the next chapter is about Draculas and Cassies date. Very important chapter.

So I'll see you all later! Hopefully!

-Roux

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_**Preview chapter 11:**_

"_I can't. Really Sir…I can't"._

"_You can and you will Miss Graham! I will not take no for an answer!"_

_His blue eyes were piercing her and a devious smile played around his lips._

"_Come on my dear, open it! You know you want to."_

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	13. Chapter 11: Rendezvous

**Chapter**** XI**

_**Rendezvous**_

_**

* * *

**_„**Kisses honeyed by oblivion."**

_Christian Nevell Boove_

_

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_Friday came swiftly and met the people of the United States' east coast with a gust of warm wind that blew away the lingering clouds from the day before. The temperature rose again and, although the heat thankfully stayed elsewhere, one could remain outside without fearing to freeze.

A balmy draft made its way into an enormous study and, after dancing with the curtains, ruffled the hair of the man sitting at the desk. Richard Graham however did not pay heed to the breeze that made the papers on the mahogany surface whisper. His mind was elsewhere.

The usually sharp eyes of the magnate were staring into space while he turned the current situation over in his brain again and again. A situation like this was rare which had mostly to do with the involvement of his oldest daughter. Cassandra. The one who generally was the one to solve problems, not create them. The responsible offspring who had everything under control and made his life comfortable. Now she was the reason for his headache.

Graham wasn't a man who kept business and private life strictly separated. Even if he'd wanted it just wasn't possible, not with Damien and his friends being junior partners and up until now the combination of everything had worked smoothly. But when Cordelia had gleefully told him the news of his oldest daughter and his wealthiest costumer going on a date that very evening he couldn't help but entertain the idea of playing the father-card and forbid Cassandra to go. His wife must have known what went on in his thoughts because a warning glance was thrown in his direction when she closed the door to leave him to his business. He hadn't done a stitch since then.

A weary hand was drawn over his forehead and he stretched a bit. Deciding that he was at liberty to feel old, after all his daughter was going out with his costumer, he came to a conclusion.

-O-

The noises behind the door were indubitably female chatter which fell silent the instant his fist knocked on the light wood.

"Cassie? Are you decent?"

The fathers' question roused a round of high-pitched giggles from the inside before the calm voice of his oldest called out to him.

"Yes father. Do come in."

Leaving the door open behind him, Richard entered the room under the shine of four grins. Nefer, Raphie, Grace and Tess all beamed at him in various states of delight from barely suppressed sniggers in Theresa's case, to a shy curl of Gracie's lips. Only Cassandra's smile was as respectful and polished as always.

To his surprise Stephanie was nowhere to be seen which told him that a) the meeting had most probably not been planned and b) that the topics discussed had not been deemed fit for the ears of a twelve-year old girl.

"Cassie I need to talk to you. Alone." That was hint enough for the younger sisters whose smirks vanished within the split of a second. They got up from the cream-coloured couches and began to leave the room immediately afterwards, not without sending their sibling looks that ranged from worried to pitying.

Only after the door had closed behind Tess and the footsteps of the girls had vanished down the corridor did Richard start to speak again.

-O-

His long slender fingers were closing the golden cufflinks when he heard his mobile phone ring in the other room. Not a minute later it was presented to him by Mikhail who handed it over with a blank expression. The name on the screen made him raise his brows.

"Duchovny. Good that you call. How far have you come with the planning?" When the voice at the other end started to talk rapidly his forehead creased.

"Wait. You are WHERE?"

-O-

A small single drop of perfumed liquid was gently dabbed behind a bejewelled ear. Then, after a last checking gaze in the vanity's mirror, the woman straightened up to turn to the other females. Four pairs of brown eyes and one pair of grey regarded her as she stood there.

"You look beautiful Cassie. The Count won't be able to take his eyes off of you." Gracie's sighed declaration held every romantic hope that a girl of seventeen kept in her head.

Cassandra chuckled.

"Well I sincerely hope that he will also watch the piece otherwise I have no idea what to talk about over dinner."

"Oh please." Tess shook her head that her brown curls went flying. "It's not as if the two of you have anything in common. Of course not. Who ever got the idea that you could talk about similar likes and dislikes at dinner? Honestly!" The last word was uttered with a huff.

"Well, you would know Queeny. After all you are his little informant." The taunt from Raphaela made the younger sister scowl. Before she could retort however the oldest stepped in.

"What are the plans of you ladies tonight? Will you be home?" The casual statement had the tension dissolve a bit and when Cassandra picked up her white purse and wrap she noted with satisfaction that the apprehension from seconds ago was receding again.

Nefer shrugged nonchalantly.

"I think we will. At least nothing has been planned for now." Shrewd looks and grimaces were thrown in Amelia's direction by her siblings, except Stephanie who had been very quiet throughout the day in general.

Cass however wouldn't notice the silent exchange for she was in the process of placing the satin-and-fur wrap around her shoulders and when her eyes turned back towards the others they had schooled their expressions again into casualness.

The blonde woman smiled.

"Very well. But please don't wait up for me ladies. It can get late." After pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks and a last stroke of over the head of the youngest she left the room, the heels of her silver sandals clicking on the parquet.

-O-

It was in moments like this that Mikhail admired his Master more than ever. Not two hours ago the plans of the Count had to undergo a violent change due to a single phone call. A lesser man would have thrown the mobile against a wall after hearing the news but not Dracula. When the conversation had been over he had calmly told his valet to book the next flight leaving to the US West coast before resuming getting ready for the date he had with the daughter of his business partner. Now the blue eyes of the king of vampires were studying the programme of the evening while his valet steered the limousine through the iron-wrought gates and onto the premises of Graham Manor.

What the servant would never know was that behind the composed exterior Dracula was seething. He just had a better check on his temper than in former times. Resisting the urge of pinching the bridge of his nose he inwardly cursed his event manager who had to be so stupid as to try to steal from the state and get himself caught. He should make the man pay for his terrible timing alone because now he definitely wouldn't be able to go too far with Cassandra tonight.

The upcoming flight at six in the morning was certainly _not _fitting into the picture of the woman's "education". Yet he had to fly if he didn't want to become the laughing stock of vampire society. A society he himself had created and which was as spoiled at its' Master when it came to entertainments.

Sun started to set when the dark car stopped in front of the entrance and the Count shoved all thoughts of business away. He'd be damned again if he wouldn't enjoy the night and the company.

His black evening coat swishing around his legs, Dracula ascended the steps to where Jenkins already held the front door open for him and soon he entered the grand foyer. Black wing tips on marble stopped though, the moment he got aware of the woman waiting for him at the base of the staircase.

The evening lights from outside set Cassandra's white dress on fire. He was only able to see parts of it as she wore a stole around her shoulders but he knew she had chosen well. Creamy pearls, just a shade lighter than the skin of their owner adorned her earlobes as well as the combs in her hair which was gathered in an updo of tiny curls at the back of her head. As far as he could see she wore no other jewellery, her neck and throat being bare and the sudden need to mar the perfect with two puncture marks arose in him. Before it consumed his rational mind however he stepped towards her and bowed, bestowing the back of her hand with a gentle kiss when she curtseyed. The burn that had spoiled the spot where now his lips brushed, was gone, result of his goodbye the other evening where he had literally "kissed the pain away" without her noticing.

"Miss Graham. Beautiful as always."

"Thank you Sir."

She bowed her head in gratitude.

"I'm afraid my parents are not able to greet you, they accepted the invitation of one of our neighbours. They asked me however to forward their most heartfelt regards."

The following small talk was kept short and not before long she took his offered arm out of the house towards the car so they could be on their way to the performance.

-O-

It wasn't an opera per se that they would watch though it was housed in the Metropolitan. It was a ballet and Cassandra wasn't able to hide her delight when the Count handed her a colourful programme and she finally got to know where he was whisking her off to. "The Beauty and the Beast."

His piercing eyes observed her as she quickly leaved through the little booklet he had presented her with and he silently thanked Theresa who had provided him with the information that this particular ballet was one of those few Miss Graham had not seen yet.

Feeling a sense of pride well up, he responded to her pleased smile with one of his own when she looked back at him. Her dusty pupils that sometimes were rather hard to read shone with delight and inwardly he congratulated himself on a successful start of the evening.

-O-

The entrance hall of the Met was packed with people dressed up to the nines and Cassandra was familiar with many of them. Faces turned towards her when she entered on the Count's arm and if it hadn't been for many years she had already spent in the midst of society she would have felt self-conscious. But today the stares of others dripped off like water from a feather and her attention centred on the tall man walking next to her.

It seemed that this was one of those premiere nights that only the very well-off would be able to grace with their presence. The extra helps that were employed this evening to take care of the esteemed guests confirmed her suspicion.

At occasions like this the staff of the opera changed the layout of the usual seating and with the help of plant pots and nicely painted partitions separated the bigger boxes to give the rich occupants a bit of intimacy. A bit of nervousness started to creep up her stomach when she thought about being "alone" with her father's business partner in a dark opera house. It had no chance to linger however. An employee of the Met moved towards them to help with their coats but her escort stopped the man with a regal gesture when he wanted to assist Cassandra with her wrap.

"I'll do that myself."

She could feel his breath on her neck as the Count took her fur away from her shoulders his gloved fingers grazing her collarbone in the progress. While she repressed a shudder he passed her stole together with his evening cloak and gloves to the waiting employee.

A small smirk played around the vampire's lips as he looked away from the woman to give the servant something to do. Naturally he had noticed her being affected by his light touch and filed the information away for further use. After taking on a more sedate expression he turned back to the blonde woman next to him finally being able to take in all of her dress.

The white gown was held together by a pearl adornment at Cassandra's right shoulder leaving the other one bare. A similar embellishment sat on her left hip and together with the split reaching to mid calf at the front of the skirt, the dress was draped in a way that was showing off the figure of his companion in a becoming but not blatant way. Not too much but exactly enough and once more he had to notice that Miss Graham seemed to be quite well versed in the matters of regal understatement.

Placing a hand on the small of her back, Dracula guided her to their seats. The silk was smooth under his fingers and he suspected that the skin beneath would show a similar texture. Anything else would not have suited the woman who stiffened when she felt his palm gently leading her to "their" booth and he bent down to whisper into her ear.

"If I may compliment you on your choice of attire Miss Graham…white looks very fetching on you." His thumb softly stroked over the cloth, closing in to his hand, and this time she wasn't able to suppress a shiver.

"Thank you Sir. I'm glad you like the dress."

It sounded a tad shaky and Cassandra was glad when she was allowed to sit down on a plush chair. The opera house was buzzing with noise and she overlooked the crowd with interest. Even though she was used to this kind of hullabaloo it was exciting each and every time anew. The anxiety and vibrations that hung over an audience before the start of a piece were always unique and she soaked them in like a familiar wine that tasted good no matter how often one sampled it.

Dracula watched her as she viewed the throng of people, her eyes half-lidded and restless as they jumped from piece to piece of the big picture, her nostrils blown as if she wanted to get a sense of every fragrance hanging about the room, from the perfumes of the women over the scent of the flowers to the wood of the stage.

Her sudden elated chuckle made him move behind her chair.

"May I ask what is so amusing?" Bowing down to her level to hear her response Dracula followed the direction of her nod and he got aware of a couple seated in the box directly opposite theirs.

"These are Sebastian and Anna Taylor. Have you met?" Cassandra turned her head only to look directly into his face. The unexpected nearness of him had her blood run a bit faster through her veins and if she hadn't known better she would have said that he was aware of the fact that she felt a bit breathless. He held her gaze just a tad too long for her to be comfortable before he answered her question.

"I can't say I've had the pleasure. What of them?"

"They are the parents of the young lady I introduced you to at the charity bazaar. Melanie."

Dracula nodded in recognition.

"Ah yes I remember. Anybody else you are acquainted with?" He motioned to the rest of the audience.

Indeed there was. Gesturing inconspicuously towards certain people she visually introduced him to half of the upper class of the area. Or, to be more precise, the half he hadn't known already.

Meanwhile they were observed too. The image they gave to the onlookers spoke of an intimacy both were not aware of. The Count had grasped the back of Cassandra's seat supporting his weight as he bent down, his eyes flickering between the female and the people she pointed out. His mean was that of an attentive listener and his smile here and there developed into a light chuckle when she would tell him a short anecdote. The woman's cheek was next to his and the general closeness of their stance would give gossipers material for days to come.

Eventually they noticed the stares that more or less obvious were directed towards them and Dracula straightened up to take his own place on the female's left.

Cassandra's eyes locked with those of Anna Taylor who smirked at her friend. Then the lights darkened and the performance began.

-O-

"How wonderful." One hand safely tucked in the Count's elbow a glass of champagne in the other Cassandra wandered alongside him through the halls of the opera.

Intermission had started a few minutes ago and would end a bit later than usual to give the upper crust enough time to mingle. It was just like the old days when the rustling of gowns and jewellery reflecting the lights of heavy chandeliers were common occurrences.

"And that was only the first part." Out of the corner of his eyes the vampire glanced down at her feeling her raised brow more than really seeing it.

"Are you teasing me Sir?" Her voice was a mixture of amused irritation and curiosity and when he looked fully at the female next to him; her eyes glittered with an unspoken challenge.

"I would never dare Miss Graham."

"Of course not." Was it him or had he heard a mocking undertone?

"Are you doubting me?" Tilting his head he regarded her, waiting for the well-known blush to arrive.

"I would never dare Sir."

Cassandra smile was bright, showing a row of teeth as light as her pearls. The tranquil way in which she threw his own retort back at him, like a well-placed match ball, had him stare at her for a moment. Then he started to laugh.

"Well done my dear." He raised his glass in a tribute before they were interrupted by the calling of his companion's name and they could make out the Taylor's walking towards them.

Anna and Sebastian were the definition of "happy, rich, young couple enjoying a night out". The suit of the husband was most definitely tailor made and the woman's lime green dress and diamonds were screaming money. In the casual self-assured way that comes with being bred into households that are neither lacking funds nor the means to invest them, they strolled towards their friend and her escort. Both holding dainty champagne flutes of their own, the two of them made a very handsome couple. Anna's almost black curls and olive complexion contrasted vividly with Sebastian's strawberry blonde hair and his very light skin and they would often joke that they were made for each other like cream cheese and pumpernickel.

"Cassie. How good to see you."

Introductions were made, kisses between the women exchanged and then they found themselves engulfed in the topics of the performance, the weather in general, little Melanie and…golf.

"So, Count Dragulia do you play?" Sebastian was a passionate golf player who, to the chagrin of his wife, could spend whole days on the greens. This time however Anna didn't abruptly changed the topic as she was known to do whenever her significant other started to natter about his most favourite hobby. Before Dracula could remind the other man, who was happily going into the subjects of clubs and handicaps, that there were ladies present, the wife seized the opportunity.

"We'll be back in a second we need to powder our noses." Cassandra had just enough time to set her glass aside before her arm was grasped and she was half-dragged away towards the direction of the powder rooms.

The moment the door had closed behind them a cloud of different perfumes surrounded the women, hanging with an almost suffocating thickness below the ceiling. Anna looked at Cass with a devious grin.

"You lucky lucky lucky woman you. What a catch. Have you noticed how handsome he is? Of course you have after all you showed up with him here today. If I wasn't married…. Wow. Just wow. You have my blessing to do whatever you want with him."

The blonde female waited patiently until Anna was finished with her exclamation.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. He is a costumer of my father's and a friend of both my parents it was only polite to accompany him when he asked me. There is nothing behind it." Checking her hair in one of the mirrors she tried to appear indifferent.

A very unladylike scoff escaped her friend's lips before she followed the other woman's example and readjusted her necklace.

"Oh please Cassie are you listening to yourself? Maybe you'd like to remember that I was watching you earlier. The way you talked to each other didn't exactly look like "nothing". What are your plans for the rest of the evening? Is he getting you home after the performance?" Making sure her earrings were secured she glimpsed at her friend.

The oldest Miss Graham could feel a soft blush rising on her cheeks when she confessed that she would be taken out for dinner, a statement that only supported Anna in her claims.

"AHA. See he wants more than just a bit of talk with his architect's daughter. This night might last longer than you have planned. Oh I'm so envious."

The last bit was meant jokingly and Cassandra took it as at that. It was the sentence before that struck a cord. Her sisters had said similar things to her trying their hands at advice before her father had interrupted the impromptu meeting and suddenly all the little moments when the Count had touched her or even only talked to her came back to her mind. What did he expect from her? And how much was she ready to give?

The nervousness from ago crept up again as well as a startling wariness regarding the rest of the night. Anna though did not notice and chatted happily away as they walked back to where they had left the men. The bell rang. It was time for the second part of the ballet.

-O-

Unseeing grey eyes stared at the stage where the dancers performed while Cassandra's mind ran rampant. Her friend's words had stirred memories both recent and old ones and her apprehension increased within the minute, making it impossible for her to concentrate on the show.

The fingers of her right hand found her other arm and there, in tense anxiety, an outlet. The scar was pricked mercilessly, the manicured nails pulling at the skin while the woman's imagination occupied her to the extent of not being aware of her general surroundings anymore.

She jumped when suddenly a hand enclosed her left wrist and pulled. Gently but surely the Count drew her arm towards him and into his lap. His eyes never left the stage but when she tried to tug his hold got a tad stronger.

Left hand enclosing hers to keep it where it was, his right started to stroke the angry skin of her arm soothingly. Up and down his fingertips smoothed over the heated flesh and she could feel the pain she had brought on herself subsiding.

However the whole gesture did nothing for her composure in general and when his fingers dug into her palm in a soft rubbing motion her breath came in short gasps. She knew she should draw her arm back but even if he would have let her, she couldn't. Her whole universe was reduced to her hand and she shuddered when his thumb ran over her Venus mount.

The rest of the performance raced by in a blur though now of entirely different reasons than before. He did not let go of her until the curtain was closed and the lights went on again. They had not even clapped for those who had presented the ballet.

Around them the people started to move. Cassandra's left hand was raised from its position and cool, dry lips pressed against the palm directly where the scar ended. At long last the Count's eyes met hers before breaking the kiss. His hand gently closed hers before he helped her to stand on quivering knees.

"Come. Let's eat."

-O-

It was near Central Park that the dark limousine stopped and the doors were opened by the bowing chauffeur. Once more offering his arm Dracula guided Cassie to a downwards leading staircase.

"Allow me to show you the dingy parts of the city Miss Graham."

He preceded her down the steps like every gentleman would do in case the lady tethered and fell. His statement couldn't have been more correct for the area seemed indeed to be quite questionable and there was a bit of hesitation in the woman's pace as she followed him. As they turned a corner into a small opening the sudden light was almost blinding. Lamps on each of the surrounding walls lit up the place and when Cassandra looked up she could make out surveillance cameras.

At the opposite wall potted rose bushes flanked a double-glass door which was opened by two liveried doormen to the approaching couple.  
Cassie's heels sank into the lush red carpet and she didn't even have time to read the name of the restaurant before she was inside and her escort assisted her with her stole once more. This time his caress was more than discernable but somehow she didn't find the will to tell him to stop. On the contrary, each small touch of his made her both more comfortable with him but also more nervous of what would become of the night. A mixture of feelings swirled through her blood making her dizzy with anticipation and heady with long suppressed need and when a uniformed waiter showed them the way to their table she followed him unfocused. It was only when the Count, who had pulled out her chair for her, asked her if she liked the place he had chosen that she snapped out of her daze, silently berating herself that she had let her manners slip. After quickly scanning the room she was able to answer him in the affirmative though.

The restaurant he had brought her to was small and intimate but undoubtedly expensive. Round tables made out of Brazilian Rosewood were positioned in a way that gave each costumer the impression of being alone. The surrounding potted rose bushes, similar to the ones she had seen outside, separated the different parties and gave off a gentle but unobtrusive scent that spun through the air around them. Dim lights added to the scenery of a rose garden by night and somehow the setting finally helped Cassandra to unwind a bit and calm her taught nerves.

"This is really beautiful Sir. I never knew such a place existed."

Dracula smiled at the apparent delight of the woman seated opposite him.

"I'm pleased that you like it. It's an insider's tip and has only been open for a few months now."

A waiter appeared next to the table, not the one who had led them to their seats first, but a young man who couldn't be much older than Cassandra. He didn't seem to be very comfortable and when he started to speak it was clear why he was so edgy. The French accent was unmistakeable.

"_Bonsoir__ Madame, Monsieur._ I'm Èmile _votre_ waiter for the evening…." He stopped, obviously trying to search for an English word. His fingers clutched the menus in desperation when he couldn't seem to find it and Cassie's heart went out to him. Forgetting that just moments ago she had been as uneasy as this employee before her, she addressed him in the language she had grown up with.

"_Good evening. Have you been long in the States __Èmile?"_

The waiter couldn't have been more shocked if she had stood up and danced on the table. Dracula had to suppress his mirth when he saw the mortified mean of the attendant before the young man shook his head…most probably in both an attempt to clear his thoughts and an answer to the woman's question.

"_No Madame. I arrived only three weeks ago. I __apologize; usually my English is a lot better."_

"_Don't worry. Personally I prefer French to English…"_

Closely observing the woman, who was focussed entirely on setting the waiter at ease, Dracula had to perceive how much of a difference the language made.

Cassandra's French was perfect, the accent flawless and it flowed like water tingling in his ears resembling the sweetest music. Her tone of voice, already soft in English, had adopted a silky texture and it was as if a different person sat there, conversing with the server, than the woman he had gotten to know during the last few weeks. Somehow she had suddenly become less serene as if together with the language her accustomed lifestyle had been substituted.

His ponderings were interrupted when the young man remembered his profession and, in French of course, told them about the daily specials and handed them the menu's. When he left them to their choosing his posture had unmistakeably straightened.

Cassie's eyes met those of the Count who had leaned back, a peculiar smile curling the corners of his mouth. For a moment neither of them said anything.

"Pity Miss Graham?"

"I know from my own experience how he must be feeling, that's all." His dark eyebrows rose in an unspoken query and she gave further information, her hands locking together on the table.

"I was fourteen when came to the USA. The adjustment to a different language taking over my daily life needed a bit of time." Her expression grew wistful, remembering events that had occurred in what felt like another existence.

"I thought you were brought up bilingual."

Straightening up he opened the velvet cover of his menu, his gaze flicking back and forth between her and the meals of French cuisine, written down in both languages on thick creamy paper. The female followed his example and soon they held their conversation over the sound of pages being turned.

"Oh I did. But I was mostly with my grandmother and she only spoke French with me so I was much more used to this language than to English." The Count looked up from a description of a basil salmon terrine to regard her with furrowed brows.

"Wasn't she born in Britain? At least that's what your father told me."

"Oh he was right, grand-mère was British and therefore my mother grew up in a bilingual household, too. When she was sixteen however my grandmother's father died and the disinheritance he had threatened her with when she had run away with grand-père became legal and official. Grand-mère refused to speak English from that day on and I learned the language from my parents."

The fact that her parents hadn't been the ones to raise her was left unspoken but from what he had heard by now it was easy for him to put two and two together. She must have been brought to the USA after her grandmother had died and had naturally been much better versed in French than in English; a problem that seemed to have been remedied by now except for certain circumstances.

Remembering that just a day before she had slipped into her first language when she had been more than distressed meant that the French words must linger directly beneath the surface and would take over instinctively the moment her brain wasn't able to digest English anymore. It was just the same with him and Romanian. In the centuries of his life Dracula had learned to be fluent in more than a few languages but his mother tongue would always sojourn at the back of his head.

"In which language are you thinking in?" The query was a bold one but she didn't reprimand him. Tilting her head she contemplated the question.

"It depends on the situation I think and on the location. When I'm at my grandfather's house I think in French. Here I think in English most of the time."

The Count nodded in understanding before turning towards the waiter who had just arrived again to take their orders.

-O-

Dracula had to admit that he hadn't often had such an agreeable dinner companion. After their initial "language-talk" the two of them had switched between various topics somehow arriving at his own childhood. With apt attention she had listened to his anecdotes pleasing him with her laughter and her interest and with each passing second the woman from the letters emerged more and more. Her smile started to deepen when light banter alternated with serious conversation, the words flying over their respective dishes of lamb in his case and pigeon in hers, a choice that had surprised him. None of them however touched the issue of the previous day, quietly agreeing that there was no room tonight for both the scene he had witnessed and his comforting her in the conservatory.

-O-

"Lully or Rameau Miss Graham?" They had arrived at the desert course and, consequently, at the subject of music which had developed into an unannounced game of twenty questions regarding personal preferences.

"Oh that's hard. Can I say both?"

"I'm afraid not. You have to decide for one of them."  
An expression of comical despair flittered over the blonde woman's face and he had to hide his grin behind his hand. Chewing on a small piece of chocolate tarte she appeared to be pondering the two given options quite hard.

"This wasn't meant to be a mental exercise session Miss Graham." Unable to keep the amusement out of his voice the Count was on the receiving end of a playful glower, shot at him from beneath full lashes.

"You laugh about a very grave matter here milord. I like them equally." The teasing lilt of hers told Dracula that she wasn't seriously scolding him.

"Not counting Miss Graham. Come on, you must have a preference." Watching her slim fingers play with the stem of her wine glass he took a sip out of his own, the Red Burgundy dancing over his palate similar to the way her French had spun in his ears.

"Very well, I choose Rameau. Lully can be a bit stuffy at times."

"Stuffy? How eloquent."

Daintily but with gusto she finished her piece of tarte.

"You don't agree with me Sir?"

"I agree that Lully has a tendency to drift into the altisonant but I'd hardly call him stuffy." Dabbing his mouth with his cloth napkin he waited for her answer.

"I concur that my word choice could have been better. But there are parts in some of his pieces where he overdoes the majestic worshipping of his king and then it becomes oppressive."

"So you are of the opinion that a person can only be worshipped so much before it starts to be burdensome?"

His sharp look made her startle but then she thought she had seen a fleeting twinkle in those blue eyes of his. Deciding to take the risk of displeasing him she raised her chin.

"If I wouldn't know better milord, I'd say you are twisting my words."

The smirk he bestowed her with was the epitome of crafty. Reaching forward he caught her hand in his before she could draw it back and had his thumb caress her knuckles.

"And do you know better?"

SHE swallowed, her pulse beating in her ears and Cassandra prayed that he wouldn't feel it pounding while he held her hand in his.

"I'm not sure," She admitted and both of them knew that they weren't talking about music or words anymore.

"Why the uncertainty? Maybe I can help you to set you at ease."

Within a moment the conversation had taken on a whole different quality. It was further enhanced when he lifted her hand to press his mouth to where seconds before his thumb had been and the Count could feel the tremor running over her arm as his cool, dry lips met her skin. Observing her from beneath his lids he turned her hand to repeat the action with the palm just as he had done with her left at the opera.

Cassandra's breath caught as his kiss burned her skin and she gave into the urge to pull at her hand. He would have none of it. Placing it back on the table he still held fast and started his stroking motion again, never letting her out of his sight.

"There is no need to be so tense, my dear; you have nothing to fear from me. I won't do anything you don't want me to. All you have to do is to say stop and I will."

As he had anticipated his words helped to have the stiffness of her posture ebb away a bit, at the same time however telling her that he would proceed if she let him. The vampire knew the double meaning wasn't lost on her when she inhaled deeply and nodded.

"Thank you Sir."

Once more silence reigned between them but this time it was a comfortable one with Cassie allowing herself to enjoy the man's administrations to her hand. The sudden notion occurred to her if her father had courted her mother this way, with touches and reassurement, a thought that stroke a chord.

"Oh I almost failed to remember…"

Taking her hand away she grasped her purse, the loss of his touch more than evident.

"Father gave me this for you. He said you'd know what to do with it."

A ring with five keys became visible and she handed them over. Richard had given them to his oldest daughter that very morning, when he had interrupted her talk with the girls, with the assignment to transfer them to his costumer.

Studying the gleaming keys Dracula couldn't help but wonder about the other man's point and Cassandra seemed to be as bewildered as he was.

"Did he mention anything else?"

"Only that he forgot them the other day."

"Ah. Of course."

Every light bulb of New York switched on in the Count's head when he eventually understood what kind of keys these were and he explained.

"Your father and I have some kind of deal, one could say. When I'm still interested in a property after he has shown me around the premises, he hands over the keys to me for a day or two, so I can take a look on my own again during that time. I often need more than one walk around a house to discern if I'm able or not to feel at home in there."

"But if father has showed you the house already why didn't he give you the keys directly afterwards?"

"This one is a special case Miss Graham. I only know the property from pictures yet I'm very interested in buying it. Your father forgot the keys yesterday; therefore he seems to have used you as a messenger to deliver them to me."

The ring vanished into the pocket of his trousers.

"Please thank him from me for the consideration."

"I will Sir. You are intending to buy property in the area then?"

"To be honest I haven't fully decided yet." Fiddling with the gold hoop in his right earlobe he inwardly viewed the pictures he had received of the house.

"It depends on my opinion after I have seen it. The photographs are very promising however." Her interested expression made him describe the images that had been sent to him when she unexpectedly started to laugh.

"And one of the parlours is laid out with black marble am I right?"

"You know the place?"

"Indeed I do. I had my debut there when I was sixteen and the house still belonged to the old Mrs Milton."

Now it was his turn to be engrossed.

"Could you tell me a few things about the house?"

While emptying her wine she mused over things that would be of use for him before declaring defeat.

"Well Sir; it's been a while since I have been there. I always thought it to be very beautiful, from what I remember the layout is very pleasant and airy. It's also quite central just a few blocks from here though very quiet on the inside. The only other thing that comes to my mind is how very slippery that marble was during dancing."

She smiled at him in an apologetic fashion and the Count made a decision. Opportunities should be seized as they occurred.

"Let's take a look at it."

Obviously she hadn't expected that kind of idea.

"I beg your pardon?"

"If the property is just around the corner why not put the keys to use? You could show me around…that is, if you are not too tired." Silkily he threw the bait towards her waiting for her to take it or declare him insane. After a few seconds of her studying him, clearly trying to perceive his intentions, Cassandra nodded.

"Why not."

-O-

It was late in the night when the car stopped in front of the dark house. The couple that swiftly made its way to the entrance however didn't seem to mind the hour, their steps showing no sign of exhaustion besides the long day that already lay behind both the man and the woman.

After unlocking with the keys Dracula preceded Cassandra into the house for none of them knew if there wouldn't be unforeseen problems behind the big oak door with its stained glass windows. Everything stayed silent the only noise being the sound of their breaths followed by a sharp "click" as the Count operated the light switch. Only one of the lamps in the foyer lit up, with the others the light bulbs were missing. But even the dim shine of that single lamp proved that his escort had remembered correctly - the setting was very spacey. A door on his right most probably led to the representative rooms and a spiral staircase was winding up in front of them towards the second and third floor.

Somehow the empty house made Cassandra uneasy. The white sheets that were undoubtedly covering furniture seemed to be alive with the shadows playing over them and the barely-there light certainly didn't help matters. Unconsciously she stepped closer towards the Count, a movement that wasn't lost on him.

"Shall we take a short tour?"

A comforting hand was put on her back, directly between her shoulder blades and commanding herself to cease being a coward the woman nodded.

"Yes. The room I told you about should be on the second floor." Even though both of them were whispering their voices were thrown back at them by the walls of the hall in a way that gave Cass goose-bumps. The sound of her heels resonated around them as they ascended the stairs.

On the upper floor it got better though. Carpets swallowed a lot of the noise and the two of them took a look at the various rooms discovering a study with an adjoining library as well as sitting rooms of various sizes, including the parlour with the black marble. Everywhere they were presented with the same picture of only one lamp functioning and with sheets enveloping furniture.

The third level housed the bedrooms which were in the same condition as the other's before them with one exception. The last chamber they encountered was a very small room and when the Count tried the switch on the wall nothing happened. The only remarkable item was a wide seat in front of the big window which overlooked the backyard and provided the sole light source for them.

Cassandra moved towards the glass and peered at the yard the subdued light from the city outside catching in her hair and illuminating her features. There was not much to be seen but the dim outlines of bushes and she already wanted to step away when she felt the Counts presence at her back. He stood close but not yet touching her and his breath played with the small curls at her neck that were short enough to escape the confinement of her updo.

"Close your eyes."

His voice, although silent and gentle, broke no argument and she did as she had been told. The rustle of his cloak had her ears strain to distinguish anything that would tell her the meaning of this when the air shifted, closely to her cheek. Just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore he gave the delivering directive.

"You may look again."

The sight that met her made her turn around to him in surprise. Directly in front of her face his hand held up a box, wrapped in dark purple paper finished off by a golden ribbon.

"Sir…" Cassandra realized that she was gaping and she quickly closed her mouth again.

"Open it." Dracula still held the present up on eye level of the woman who could only shake her head in astonishment and denial.

"Milord that's too much. You are spoiling me."

"And what did I tell you before about the spoiling of females?"

"You also sent me out into a room full of vultures a few hours afterwards."

The objection was dismissed immediately by curt shake of his head.

"If I had thought for one minute that you would have been unable to face them I'd have intervened. Make no mistake Miss Graham, pushing you beyond your limits is not my intention. I do not tolerate cowardice though. But back to the matter at hand…are you saying that you are refusing my gift?" The manner in which the question was delivered made her quiver.

"It's too much, I can't take it. Really Sir…I can't".

"You can and you will Miss Graham! I will not take no for an answer!" His blue eyes were piercing her and the smirk around his lips was positively conniving. "Come on my dear, open it! You know you want to."

There was no way out and so she slowly took the offered present from his hands. Despite its size it was quite heavy and when the Count carefully pulled the dust-sheet away from the window seat so she could sit down, Cassandra bestowed him with a grateful smile. Curiosity merged with anxiety as she pulled at the ribbon and opened the box, her slim fingers teasing away the underlying tissue paper.

Dracula knew exactly when she had seen what was inside. Her gasp filled the air and her wide eyes were a rare triumph. Taking a seat next to her he watched her cautiously holding the porcelain figurine in he hands, the same one she had admired two days ago in a little antiquities shop. The one, whose sibling had belonged to her grandmother and had been broken a long time ago.

Soft fingertips ran lovingly over the china ruffles of the dress, the dance card and the exquisite features of the little rococo belle. Then the little statuette was thoroughly repacked and the box set aside before Cassandra turned towards the man at her side.

"Thank you Sir. I have no idea how…" She interrupted herself to take a deep breath and regain her composure. Her face laid open for him and her eyes shone brighter than usual.

"You are welcome Miss Graham. I knew she was for you the moment I saw her."

"Thank you again milord." Her gaze wandered where she had put the box. "She is so beautiful."

"That she is."

The indefinable undertone of the statement made her look back at him to discover that his eyes had never seemed to have gone after hers to the gift but had stayed on her the whole time. His hand came up to cup her cheek, the thumb stroking the cheekbone tenderly before tracing a path down to her mouth, following the line of her under lip. Blue pupils locked with grey ones before he leaned in, stopping just inches before her face. Their breaths mingled and in the end Cassandra wouldn't know which one of them had closed the final distance between them. All she knew was that he was kissing her, slowly and leisurely his cool lips brushing against hers, once, twice, applying gentle pressure.

The Count had felt her stiffen the instant their mouths had met. The muscles of her neck had gone taut beneath his hand and when she didn't respond at first he silently berated himself for overdoing it.

Just when he decided to break away again he could feel a subtle movement beneath his lips and he realized that she had started to kiss him back.

His fingers began to rub over her neck trying to encourage her further. It seemed to work, Cassandra's lips encountering his with rising vehemence and when his left arm came up around her waist to pull her closer the last resistance broke. With a small whimper she opened her mouth beneath him and his tongue swept in tasting her deeply for the very first time, meeting hers for a heady dance that had her strength seep away.

The kiss was broken so she could catch her breath, and from the way her chest heaved against his it was sorely needed. He never gave her a chance to think too deeply about what had just happened though. Shifting his weight he leaned back against the window with his right thigh resting on the seat before he swiftly pulled her towards him, situating her comfortably between his legs. His right arm curled around her shoulders and when his head dipped down to her neck there was no way for her to escape. Not that Cassandra had wanted to. Her whole world at this moment consisted of his mouth on her skin, the familiar scent of his cologne and the silk of his hair beneath her hands. A ragged moan escaped her when he nipped at the sensitive spot below her ear. It brought his attention back to her lips and all she could do was respond to his demands when he once more placed his mouth over hers. The white wrap slid away but the woman didn't mind. Her fingers had managed to open the clasp of his cloak slipping beneath the evening jacket to find the muscles of his chest.

The touch was burning through the cloth of his shirt and Dracula wouldn't have been surprised if the heat that waved around them would have scorched the walls. When his brain started to calculate the distance between their current location and the next five start hotel however, he knew he had to do something. Squashing the roaring beast that demanded to take her now, if necessary on one of the dust-sheet-covered beds in this house, he tore his lips away from her.

"We need to stop."

The woman in his arms slowly regained a hold of her senses and with this the inevitable humiliation rose high in her cheeks. His hand found her chin before she could hide from him. Cassandra's eyes, which moments ago had been glazed over, were now filled with confusion and tried very hard not to meet his. In vain. The Count's gaze drew her in, forcing her to put her attention to his words.

"If we continue like this I can't guarantee you that we won't treat ourselves to a second desert. I have a flight in a few hours. Some things shouldn't be rushed, second deserts included." Satisfied he saw a small smile dart over her lips, which were red and slightly swollen and at the sight of them he couldn't resist kissing her yet again. Before it got out of hand he pulled back once more and pressed his mouth to her forehead and her hairline.

"I apologize for the bad timing. I'll make it up to you. Let' see…" Placing her head on his shoulder he held her close, his fingers stroking the blonde tresses just as he had done the evening before, tenderly and comforting.

"I'll come back on Monday evening and have a business appointment on Tuesday….Dine with me on Wednesday."

Cassie didn't respond immediately, visibly turning the proposal over in her mind. If today was any indication then it was more than evident what would happen the next time she'd be alone with him. Yet…was it so bad? To deny that her body hungered for him would have been a lie and she had to admit that she wouldn't have been able to stop when he had. Too long was the time since she had last been touched in a sensual fashion, since somebody had kissed her and held her close.

"Wednesday?" Her voice was raspy but he'd understood her.

"Wednesday. I'll have my driver pick you up around seven."

"Yes." One single word but it made him feel instantly victorious.

"We should get you home." He helped her stand before straightening up himself. After having adjusted his cloak within seconds he took the stole out of her hands.

"Let me do that."

Trustingly she turned her back on him, displaying her bare neck and shoulder and he swore that he would make Duchovny very sorry for imposing on his time. Resisting the creamy skin of the woman in front of him proved to be impossible though and the two quick nips above her collarbone and at the base of her neck made her gasp in that delectable way before he covered up temptation with the wrap.

"Don't forget what I said at the restaurant." Just as the vampire had intended the murmur at her ear reminded her of her right to stop anytime and helped her to look forward to the next Wednesday more calmly. Never mind that he would make sure that she wouldn't get an opportunity to even consider stopping.

-O-

Graham Manor lay in silence behind them when the Count showed Cassandra to the door. Mikhail who was waiting in the limousine had left the engine running to tell his Master that time was precious.

The box with the statuette had been momentarily set aside as the man's gloved hand held the slim fingers of the woman, a nightly breeze ruffling both blonde and black hair.

"I can't thank you enough for this wonderful evening Sir."

"It is I who has to thank you Miss Graham…"

The rest of the phrase drowned in the sound of another car coming up the driveway. A small and expensive sports car pulled up next to the limousine and when the passengers' door opened the lights inside the car went on. The couple that saw each other off with a short but passionate kiss was more than recognizable.

Matthew Cameron had brought Amelia home.

Cassandra's whole deportment changed immediately and her hands stiffened in the Count's while she watched as Nefer got out of the car waving a goodbye. The Lotus sped off again and when the backlights had vanished down the driveway the teenager approached them. Her usual temper seemed to have evaporated as she slipped by, mumbling a short goodnight to the couple on the stairs in the process before stealing into the house.

Dracula had no idea what had just happened but he presumed that the oldest sister did not approve of the younger one's choice in boyfriends. Pressing two soft kisses on her palms he brought her focus back to him.

"Goodnight my dear, sleep well. I will see you on Wednesday."

Another final bow and then he was back in the limousine his mind already starting to be occupied with the impending business.

-O-

The door closed behind Cassandra with a gentle thud and she allowed herself the liberty of a sigh. It had been a long day and she would need a while to digest the events, especially those of the last few hours; including the scene that had just occurred in front of her eyes.

Her heels clicked as she walked towards the staircase when suddenly they were joined by another pair, their owner moving out of the shadows of the coat room. Her sister.

"Cassie."

"Amelia." The younger woman's face fell when she wasn't addressed by her nickname. The cool gaze and tight posture of her older sister hurt her more than any scolding and yelling could have ever done. In an effort to ease the tension she tried a joke.

"How dead am I?" Her pitiful attempt at laughter died when she saw the unmoving face of the other female.

"You should go to bed, it is late. Goodnight Amelia." Without another word Cassandra turned on her heel and ascended the staircase leaving Nefer to stand alone in the silent foyer.

* * *

Yes I updated. Contrary to popular belief the world is still turning on its axis and I think the Vatican would have sounded the alarm if hell had frozen over.

So here it is…the 11th chapter. Over 1 ½ year after the last one. Hey, better late than never. To be honest though I fretted quite a bit over my inability to get this chapter done. Remember and The Brat Princess are only two examples of the people who can approve to that.

Great many thanks to all of you, to each one who has reviewed, put me on alert or has just read the story. You were the reason why I didn't delete Last Waltz and gave up entirely on it. You know who you are.

A special thank you goes to The Brat Princess who looked over this chapter for me. Please note that Nr. 11 has been edited but not betaed as usual for Nienna is a very very very very very busy person. I still uploaded it because I was of the opinion that we all have waited long enough. The fully betaed version will be up as soon as I have it.

The links for Cassies dress, the statuette and a scene of the ballet can be found at my profile again. I sincerely hope that I won't need another 20 months for the next update. My life likes to take detours though, so please bear with me if I'm going to need a bit longer. I plan to finish this story and even though the amount of chapters that are still lying ahead scares me a bit. But I fully intend to not abandon Last Waltz and if I have to post the epilogue when I'm 80.

Of course I'd love to hear your opinion about this chapter. Did you like it? Did you expect something else? Did you hate it? Please tell me so I'll know what to change/do better in the future. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Hugs and kisses all around!

-Roux

* * *

_**Preview chapter 1**__**2:**_

"_How about you make yourself useful while I read these?"_

_Grasping her hand he guided it where he needed it most, groaning when she followed the hint …_


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